


30 Days AU Challenge 'The Hobbit' verse

by Seth_Lecter



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: 30 Day AU Challenge, Actual Thief Bilbo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Asylum, Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Homeless, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Orphanage, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Western, Alternate Universe - World War II, Awkward Bilbo, BAMF Bilbo, Blow Jobs, Brotherly Bonding, Burns, Cannibalism, Car Accidents, Child Abuse, Coma, Depression, Dubious Ethics, Elizabethan, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Female Bilbo, Gen, Harassment, Head Injury, Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Torture, Leather Jackets, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Memory Loss, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Violence, Multi, Muteness, New Year's Eve, No Incest, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Sexual Slavery, Office Sex, Older Man/Younger Man, Omega Bilbo, Omega Verse, Other, Past Child Abuse, Sassy Bilbo, Scars, Sexual Abuse, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Stubborn Thorin, Teacher-Student Relationship, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Threesome - M/M/M, Underage Sex, Violence, Young Bilbo Baggins, crackish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:29:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 30
Words: 36,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seth_Lecter/pseuds/Seth_Lecter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1. Fantasy: No pairing - Teen | 2. High School: Bilbo/Dwalin - Explicit | 3. 1950s: No pairing - Mature | 4. Superheroes: No pairing - Teen | 5. Western: Bilbo/Dori (implied) - Mature | 6. 1920s/Mafia: Bilbo/Balin (future) - Teen | 7. Steampunk: No pairing - Teen | 8. Fairy Tales: No pairing - Teen | 9. Detectives: Bilbo/Bifur (future) - Teen | 10. Time Travel: Fili/Bilbo/Kili (future) - Teen | 11. Harry Potter: No pairing - Teen | 12. Runaway/Homeless: No pairing - Mature | 13. WWII: Bilbo/Bifur (future) - Teen | 14. Pirates: No pairing - Teen | 15. Asylum: No pairing - Teen | 16. Turn of the Century: No pairing - Teen | 17. Favourite Book: No pairing - Teen | 18. Elizabethan Era: Bilbo/Ori (future) - Teen | 19. Futuristic: No pairing - Teen | 20. Prostitutes/Strip-Club: No pairing - Teen | 21. College: Balin/Bilbo/Dwalin (future) - Teen | 22. Office: Bilbo/Thorin - Mature | 23. Vampires and Werewolves: No pairing - Teen | 24. Genderswapped: No pairing - Teen | 25. Circus: No pairing - Teen | 26. Favourite Film: Bilbo/Dwalin - Teen | 27. Hospital: No pairing - Teen | 28. Orphanage: No pairing - Teen | 29. In a Band: Bilbo/Dwalin (future) - Teen | 30. Your choice: No pairing - Teen</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fantasy (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it was on some such occasion that the past came to bite one Bilbo Baggins in the arse. Quite literally; in the form of one very haggard fairy, bearing a letter to his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter of my 30 days AU Challenge. The prompt was fantasy, I hope I did not too bad a job with it.  
> This chapter is rated Teen and doesn't have any warnings that I can think of, except for one sassy hobbit.

Bilbo had now been in Erebor for a couple of months. And though everyone of the Company had survived what had come to be known as the Battle of Five Armies, they had not done so unscathered.

Still, life went on, missing a body part or no, and Erebor was in dire need of hard work to put it back to its former glory.

Which was why, even though he had fulfilled his contract (and then some), Bilbo had not gone back to his dearly missed Shire.

Right now though, he was having quite a bit of a laugh at the expense of clumsy young dwarrows.

 

Not long after the battle, Bilbo had been out and about on the land around the mountain and between it and Dale; mostly to have a feel of the earth and see if it was ready to be grown again, but also because he was in need of some fresh air and direct sunlight (the terasses high up in Erebor were all well and good, but they didn’t give him the possibility to anchor himself in the ground at the same time that he fed on the sun).

As he was on the way back into the mountain, he stumbled across a sight he had never seen and that left him speechless.

Oh, he had heard of tales about such creatures that he now had in front of his eyes, but he had always thought they were legends, myths and nothing more. And here he was, at the bottom of Erebor, with a small band of wild winged horses (which Ori told him, much later, were called Vængrrhross) prancing about in front of him.

They were quite small, not much larger than the ponies they had had at the beginning of their journey, but their shape was nothing but that of a horse (omitting the large and beautiful wings, of course).

He had gone running, as quietly as only hobbits can be, back to the mountain to share his excitement of the discovery with the rest of his friends.

And trust those stubborn dwarrows not to believe him. He had had to drag them down there (and really, you try and forcibly drag thirteen dwarrows that are dragging their feet!) for them to see that, yes indeed, Erebor had a band of Vængrrhross living on their hillside. Bilbo had huffed, rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath something most unflattering about the stubbornness of dwarfs and where they could put it.

Not surprisingly, though to the dismay of the other older dwarrows, the Vængrrhross had taken to only the youngests of their Company. Namely Fili, Kili, Ori and Bilbo himself. Still, all the dwarfs of the Company had taken upon themselves to make sure the band was taken well care of. As with most of their treasures, especially with those so rare, the dwarrows proved quite possessive.

Which, Yavanna be blessed, the Vængrrhross didn’t seem to mind (all the opposite in fact, Bilbo was even sure he saw a certain smugness to them, as if they were content in the knowledge that they had effectively domesticated a pack of dwarfs and trained them well, which made Bilbo laugh endlessly; in his head. There was after all no need to let the dwarfs in on it after all).

But so, the quartet often found themselves amongst the band, playing with them, and sometimes even having the chance to have a ride (which Bilbo found much more agreeable than the ride he had taken on one of the Eagles of Manwe, though let it be known that he wouldn’t say that to said Eagles face).

 

So it was on some such occasion that the past came to bite one Bilbo Baggins in the arse. Quite literally; in the form of one very haggard fairy, bearing a letter to his name.

Bilbo had let out a high pitched squeal (but that stays between us, yes?), rubbing his tender arse, only to find a missive thrust in his hands and a near manic fairy fluttering madly around his face, while she proceeded to cuss at him and his Took ancestors in a way that made him blush to the tip of his ears. _Why! Never had he heard a fairy so rude (or so explicit and adept to gore)._

Behind him, and quite forgotten in all the commotion, the three dwarrows and the band of Vængrrhross were looking on the scene with thinly veiled amused curiosity.  

 _What had their hobbit been hiding from them this time?_ was the question which was shared by each and everyone of the unvolontary spectators.

They watched (in slight awe, but if you asked they wouldn’t admit to it), as their burglar shooed the distraught fairy away from his face, then proceed to talk to her (too low for the dwarves to hear, and if the Vængrrhross heard, they did not share) while burning a hole with his gaze in the letter (and all concerned were quite happy to relay that that had not been said literally).

Imagine their surprise when Bilbo himself, the only one of the company they had never heard utter a swear word (and some dwarrows were of a mind that he was so innocent he didn’t know any) started a long litany of unflattering adjectives about a certain Morogrim Took.

Needless to say it left the three dwarrows wide eyed and gleeful. Too bad the rest of the Company wasn’t there, because not one of them would believe this ever really happened.

As it is, curiosity got the better of our young friends and they could hold their questions no longer (and the fairy, called Disa, swears up and down that the Vængrrhross rolled their eyes when said questions were all spat out at the same time).

‘Are you going to open the letter Bilbo?’

‘So, who’s it from Master Boggins?’

‘Didn’t know you had a pet from the fair-folk, Bilbo. Uncle wo-’ (Fili never did get to finish that sentence, because like anyone else, Disa did not miss the dwarf’s big nose and bit right into it)

Biblo startled hard. He had quite forgotten his audience. He sighed and reflected on the advantage of telling the news to the boys first or waiting until all the Company was assembled. After all, he wasn’t dense enough to think the three mischief makers would not go running to their elders to tell them all about this event.

Outline now, details later.

Decision made, Bilbo nodded decidedly to himself and finally opened the letter.

‘It’s a letter from my craft Master, Morogrim Took. Incidentally, he’s also a several times removed great uncle.’

Quickly reading the letter, Bilbo found himself grumbling again at the old fool of a Took that had written him. _Really, it’s a miracle he hasn’t made himself explode yet._

Ori immediately perked up at the revelation that Bilbo had a chosen craft. Bilbo and he had had long conversations about his own but he had always assumed that Bilbo had never been an apprentice himself.

‘Really Bilbo?! What did you study? Did you get your Mastery yet?’

Bilbo laughed at the scribe’s enthusiasm.

‘All in good time Ori. All shall be revealed, I promise. But I think it should be wise to gather the rest of the Company. I don’t fancy repeating myself to the lot of you.’

With that, Bilbo bowed low to the Vængrrhross and turned smartly on his heels, letting his hobbity feet carry him as fast as he could back to the mountain, leaving three young dwarves to scramble after him and an annoyed fairy to fly and follow him once more.

_Now, as to how in the Valar to tell them his craft was of the witchery kind... Oh, Thorin was going to have a ruptured blood vessel when he’d hear about it..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vængrrhross is a name I made up myself for the winged horses, using the old Norse words for 'wing' (vængr) and 'horse' (hross).
> 
> I might continue this AU once I'm finished with the challenge.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading. This chapter (and the followings) was not beta-ed so if you see any mistakes, please feel free to point them out to me.
> 
> I'll try to update this everyday, but with work it might be a tight fit to manage to write a chapter every day. I shall try though.  
> At least I have a small summary for each prompt, so I know where I'm going!


	2. High School (Bilbo/Dwalin - Explicit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is a shy 16 years old orphan who lives in his books and has a sweet crush on his PE teacher Mr Dwalin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! Prompt High School. Heed the warnings in the tags. There is explicit dub-con underage sex! So if you don't like that, skip it. There is also mention of past child abuse, though nothing explicit at all.

Bilbo Baggins was fourteen when his aunt Lobelia took him out of Hobbiton High to instead send him to Erebor High for difficult boys.

He had been living with his aunt for nearly ten years and she had decided that he needed to be cut off of his friends in the Shire and his last comfort, since the death of his parents in a car accident, taken away from him.

Bilbo had always been a shy boy, but when his parents were still with him and at the beginning of his stay with his aunt, he had also had a mischievous side which his parents used to encourage. But Aunt Lobelia had wanted to put an end to it.

Year after year Bilbo retreated further inside himself, finding refuge in books, which were to quickly become his only friends.

The rare friends he had had when he was younger drifted away, forced by their parents to keep their distances because of the lies his aunt spread; about what a naughty, ungrateful and dangerous boy he was.

‘He’s not been right in the head since his parents passed. Wasn’t all that proper to begin with either. He has episodes you know. It’s so hard to look after a sick boy like him. It’s not natural. And all from the goodness of my heart, my poor little nephew.’

Bilbo didn’t like Erebor High. Because, though the teachers were nice to him and the library plentiful, the boys that went to school with him, were all what his aunt say he is but he isn’t. They steal, they fight, they are rude and loud and where in Hobbiton he was left alone because of his difference, here in Erebor is his targeted and bullied for it.

He knows the teachers do their best to put a stop to it, but they are not always present and it seems that here, the boys have no fears of the repercussions their actions can have.

Biblo is fifteen when his guardians decide that he will not stay as out student, but will stay in the boarding school too.

He doesn’t know how to feel about that. On one side it means that there will be no more of his uncle’s beatings or his aunt’s verbal humiliations, it means a room of his own with a proper bed, and it means having three proper meals a day as well as snacks. But it also means that he is open to being bullied at every time of day and night.

Still, he prefers Erebor High, though he is the victim here too, the boys have nothing on the viciousness of his guardians and so are easier to ignore. And at least here he knows some people care about him and his welfare.

Bilbo is sixteen when he realises that he has a crush on his PE teacher. He doesn’t know what to do with that information. It’s a bit not good. What if it get out to the others? He knows what they think of what they call ‘fags’. It would bring a whole new level of violence that he isn’t ready to be subjected to.

And so, Bilbo retreats even further inside himself.

 

Dwalin Fundinson has worked in Erebor High for difficult boys as a PE teacher since he was honorably discharged from the Royal Navy.

The school is run by his best friend’s father, and he has known most of the teachers since they were all kids. It was quite fortunate that they had been looking for a replacement for their latest PE teacher just when he was wondering what the hell to do with himself now that he wasn’t in the line of fire anymore.

The teacher he had taken the place of was the latest of a long string of others that had all left abruptly because of the violence the boys had in them. With his stint in the Navy, Dwalin had been a sure bet that he would at least last longer than his predecessors.

And indeed, Dwalin had been a teacher in Erebor High for nigh on ten years.

He was good with the kids and they respected him, on a certain level. The fact that they were just a tiny bit fearful of him also helped in keeping them in check, though he never had and never would lift a finger on any of them.

It all had been the same since he arrived, the boys were hard, didn’t find any interest in intellectual school subjects and there was at least three fights a day he had to intervene in and separate them.

But things got a bit different when little Bilbo Baggins arrived.

And he had no place in Erebor High. All the teachers agreed on that point, but they had had no option but to accept the boy.

He was scrawny for his age, not very tall, a head full of dirty blond curls, always hunched over some book or another.

He was quiet, shy and sometimes stuttered when at the center of attention.

Dwalin saw right away that something wasn’t right at home for the boy and he couldn’t help but feel protective of him. All the teachers did. Looked out for him, well aware that he was being bullied.

He saw how the boy flinched, ready to bolt or for a hit to fall, on those occasion his large feet tangled on themselves and made him clumsy. He saw how he ate his lunch as quick as he could, afraid that it would be taken from him.

He also saw how the boy looked on with thinly veiled sadness and envy when parents embraced their kids at the end of the day or when they came to get the boarding ones. But he also say how he flinched away of casual contact he wasn’t expecting.

It all started to change when Bilbo changed from being an out student to a boarding one.

Though he was still bullied, it had calmed enough that most of the time he could relax in peace, and with the help of three healthy meals a day he started to fill out more, though he would always be on the small side.

He started looking less and less like the little boy he was and more like the man he would become.

And like a moth to the flame, Dwalin couldn’t help but be drawn in.

 

He didn’t touch. The boy was sixteen, his student. So he didn’t touch. But he did watch.

He looked out for the boy, made sure he was being treated well, as much as he could, and he observe the boy go about his day and his studies.

Bilbo didn’t have any friends amongst the student body, but he could often be found in the library discussing one thing or another with young Ori, the librarien. Or talking with any of the other teachers.

Dwalin’s self-control was thinning as every day passed and the boy unwittingly teased his teacher.

He talked to the boy, he couldn’t help himself, every time he had the occasion he started a conversation about anything under the sun and it only made it worse.

The blushes and small giggles, the looks through eyelashes no boy should have the privilege to have, the lip biting.

The boy was a temptress and he didn’t even know it, innocent that he was.

Dwalin saw the scars that Bilbo didn’t try to hide anymore, saw his body so small and frail compared to his tall and muscular one. But it didn’t take away any of his appeal. If anything, it only emphasised it.

Dwalin wanted to take the boy in his arms and keep him away from the world, kiss and lick every inch of his skin to show the boys he was loved and desired.

 

His control snapped on evening after his last class of the day.

The boys, Bilbo amongst them, had all left the sport hall to either go home or back to their room before diner.

Or so he thought.

As Dwalin was making his way back from the now tidied up hall to his small office on the side of the changing rooms, he heard the showers still running.

Ready to chew off the head of the stray for not being where he should, he was quite surprised when he realised that said stray was Bilbo.

The boy was leaning against the wall, head bowed as the water cascaded on his body, along his scarred back, down to the dimples just up his bum, dripping to the floor from his firm cheeks. The water darkened his hair and for the first time Dwalin saw the boy with an entirely relaxed posture.

The sight was divine and he couldn’t help but groan softly as he felt himself harden in his shorts.

 

He must have been louder than he thought, because Bilbo immediately stiffened, grabbed his towel from the side wall and turned around with it tightly held in front of him.

‘Oh! Professor Fundinson...’

Bilbo was breathless from the scare, and his skin rosy from the heat of the shower. The blush that came from being naked save for a towel in front of his favourite teacher, went all the way down his neck and Dwalin groaned again, taking a step forward.

‘Pro-professor?’

The stutter made Dwalin snap out of it. The boy was looking up at him with eyes full of confusion and biting his bottom lip nervously, hands twitching on the towel.

‘I’m sorry if I scared you lad. I thought one of the boys was doing something he shouldn’t.’

‘Oh. It’s... It’s alright professor. I shouldn’t be here either...’

Bilbo put one arm behind him and blindly switched off the shower without taking his eyes off of his teacher before closing the towel more securely around himself.

‘What are you doing here laddie? Why are you not with the others back in your room?’

Dwalin got closer to Blibo when the boy bowed his head in what seemed like shame. He put one hand on the boy’s shoulder - _his skin is so soft_ \- and with the other lifted the boy’s chin so he was looking at him.

‘No need to worry. You’re not in any trouble. I just want to know what brought you here now.’

‘Well, I... I never take my shower with the others, sir. I don’t like how they always look at my scars and taunt me even more than usual. Nothing big but... But I prefer to just wait until they're gone to take mine.’

As Bilbo talked, Dwalin's hand had started to slowly caress the boy’s shoulder, moving unconsciously to the boy’s nape and letting his thumb gently massage the side of his neck, while his other hand had migrated from holding Bilbo’s chin to his cheek.

Unused and starved for such contact Bilbo closed his eyes and leaned in the touch and let out an involuntary moan.

The noise that escaped the boy’s throat was Dwalin’s undoing and he closed the last step separating them and took Bilbo’s mouth with his own.

 

Bilbo had been surprised, to say the least, when he had heard the groan then turned to see his teacher looking at him with heat in his eyes.

He had first thought his teacher was angry at him, especially when he hadn’t answered and taken a threatening step closer. Then, he had thought he had disappointed professor Fundinson with his breaking of the rules, which was why he had hunched his shoulders and bowed his head. The idea of having disappointed his teacher had made his inside clench painfully and his head fill with self-hatred.

His teacher’s gentle touch had nearly made him jump out of his own skin. The soft look in his teacher’s eyes as he had gently lifted his face to look at him had made butterflies jiggle in his tummy and his heart soar.

Bilbo had not been expecting the kiss to happen. Though he had a crush on his teacher, he had never let himself hope that anything would come of it.

He couldn’t help the embarrassing noises that escaped his throat as his teacher devoured his mouth, nor could he help the loud groan that followed as he felt his teacher’s hardness on his tummy and his own rubbing against his teacher’s thigh.

It was that that broke the moment and Bilbo’s mind woke up at once.

Panicked, he wrenched his mouth from his teacher’s, only to moan again when the latter only relocated to kissing and nipping at his neck.

Bilbo brought up his hands to professor Fundinson’s shoulders, confused enough that he didn’t know if it was to bring him closed or push him away.

‘P-please sir... Please, you. You have to sto-oh! stop...’

 

Bilbo’s pleading brought Dwalin back to himself, and he let his head rest heavily on the boy’s shoulder, trying to get his breathing back in order. He didn’t let go though, he couldn’t. Not while he could feel Bilbo’s erection against his thigh, not with the evidence that to boy wanted it as much as he did.

So he gently let his hands pet the boy’s hair and caress his back and made soothing sounds.

‘It’s alright Bilbo my lad, everything's fine.’

‘No... No, it isn’t. You’ll... You’ll get fired and I. Well I’ll get sent back and I can’t! I can’t be sent back, sir!’

‘No one’s going anywhere. I can promise you that lad. Shh, calm down. I won’t let you get anywhere away from me. Don’t worry.’

Bilbo had started hiccuping through nervous tears and Dwalin let himself slide down to the ground, taking Bilbo with him and hauling him up on his lap. Pressing the boy’s head against his chest, and petting him until he had calmed down.

Once calmed, Bilbo lifted his head to look at his teacher and Dwalin couldn’t help but kiss the tears away.

‘I know you’re afraid Bilbo, but nothing bad will happen. The only thing that will happen is that you’ll have someone to hold you and hold onto, someone to be there for you and love you. Someone to look after you... Do you understand lad?’

Bilbo nodded and bit his lip, then opened his mouth to protest some more, but Dwalin didn’t let him speak.

‘Nothing will happen. I’m not going anywhere, you won’t be alone anymore.’

Dwalin bent down slowly, letting Bilbo time to turn his head if he wanted, then kissed the boy again.

He let it be more gentle that the first kiss they shared, slowly letting his tongue map the inside of Bilbo’s mouth, and let his hands travel the length of Bilbo’s body.

The boy gasps as his thumb passed over his nipple and keened when Dwalin then tweaked it gently.

‘P-please...’

Bilbo had no idea what he was begging for, but he needed something, needed more and he knew that his teacher was going to give it to him.

Dwalin gently leaned Bilbo against the tiled floor to hover over him, still kissing.

His kisses leave Bilbo’s mouth to follow down his neck, his collarbone, his nipples, down down down until he reaches the boy’s jutting hipbone and his leaking cock.

Bilbo is a writhing mess under him, moaning and babbling incoherently, begging for more, a thin layer of sweat covering his body and a blush dusting his cheeks and neck.

He is perfect and lovely and Dwalin doesn’t stop looking at the boy’s face as he slowly swallows the young boy’s cock down his throat.

He is rewarded by Bilbo crying out and his hips lifting off the floor. Bilbo lifts his head to look at his teacher and moans at the sight of his small cock in the older man’s mouth.

When he starts bobbing his head up and down Bilbo can’t stop the hand that comes to rest on his teacher’s bald head.

Bilbo keens, and between his legs Dwalin can feel the boy’s balls tightening, announcing the boy’s imminent climax, so he speeds up and it is not long before Bilbo stiffens and comes down Dwalin’s throat with a shout.

Dwalin swallows, savouring the bittersweet taste of Bilbo’s cum.

The boy is boneless beneath him, breathing hard and what a sight for sore eyes he is. Dwalin stuffs his hand in his shorts to grab his own achingly hard cock, taking it out and wanking himself on top of the boy’s belly. It doesn’t take him long to come all over Bilbo’s soft cock and tummy with a deep groan of satisfaction.

Slowly he gets up to grab the forgotten towel and when he turns around it is to see a sleepy Bilbo curiously swipe a finger on his cum covered tum and slowly give it a sniff before licking the cum off of his finger.

Dwalin can’t help the laugh that escapes him as Bilbo makes a moue of distaste. The boy looks up sheepishly up at him, a blush blooming once more.

‘It’s an acquired taste I’m afraid.’

Bilbo looks shyly at his teachers crotch, biting his lips.

Dwalin leans back down and whips the cum off with the towel, before pulling Bilbo in his arms, where the boy sleepily nuzzles his neck.

‘There is always time for that next time lad, if you really want to try.’

Bilbo nods slowly.

‘Next time...’

They stay that way for some time and the boy is asleep when Dwalin think it is time to get a move on.

He doesn’t have the heart to wake up Bilbo who looks so peaceful in his sleep.

_Staying a bit more won’t hurt anyone..._

So he holds Bilbo more closely to him and closes his own eyes, content in the knowledge that his boy is just where he should be.

And if Thorin, his best friend, finds them the next morning in the same position, he doesn’t tell a soul and only closes the door behind him once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter. I am knackered and so have not re-read this chapter. I will do so tomorrow and make sure there aren't any mistakes, but I wanted it put up today.  
> Not beta-ed. If you do see mistakes, please point them out.  
> Yes, I know, technically Lobelia isn't his aunt, but there you have it. I don't like the character and I think that had Bilbo been younger like in this story, abuse wouldn't have been far fetched a thing for her to do.


	3. 1950s (Gen. - Mature)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fifteen years old Bilbo is a car hop in Erebor's best drive-in. He loves it. But he could do without being in the middle of the tension between the nice if mischievous Company and the brutal Orcs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 1950s. Hope I gave it justice.  
> Bilbo as a car hop is just lovely. Thorin's Company as greasers is just a must.  
> I don't think this one deserves more than a Mature rating, but if you think I should mark it as Explicit, do tell me.  
> There is non-con touching and violence in this one, though no rape. Bilbo is underage while all the others are past their majority (though the age of each varies).  
> Some Bilbo/Bofur if you squint.

Though they are not poor, Bilbo's family still asks of him to work if he wants some pocket money. It is why when he is fifteen he starts working as a car hop in the most popular drive-in of Erebor, after school and during most weekends and holidays.

The job is nice; not too demanding, his boss and colleagues agreeable to work with and the pay is nothing to spit on.

The only things that Bilbo could do without are some of the gangs that come and clashes on the parking.

The Company isn't so bad. The lot of them, nine in total, are older than him and they usually tease him gently until he is a blushing mess but they are not mean about it. Plus, they always tip him well, which is nice. He quite likes them and he wouldn't mind getting to know them better.

The biggest problem lies in the fact that they cannot coexists peacefully with The Orcs. Which Bilbo can understand as they are a group of stupid brutes. Bilbo doesn't like to have to serve them but they always manage to go to his section, leaving him no choice but to endure their inappropriate touching and leering looks. He always feels dirty afterwards.

When both gangs are there at the same time, though rare, it always ends up with insults being thrown and a challenge being made for a race under the bridge.

At least when Thorin, The Company's leader, is there Azog and his boys don't try and abuse Bilbo. And he is grateful for small favours.

Today is one of _those_ days it would seem. Thorin and his friends have not been there ten minutes when he hears the very characteristic noise of The Orcs' car.

Bilbo is just bringing out their order when the other car slides in a free spot in his section.

Thorin is glaring at them, while Bofur, the most cheerful of the Company is asking him at which school he goes when he isn’t working.

‘I’m sorry Bofur, but I have to go get their order.’

It’s evident that Bilbo doesn’t want to go, he much prefers talking with this bunch than even having to go near the brutes in the other car, but it’s his job and he does what he must.

Bofur gives him an encouraging smile and a small pat on the arm before Bilbo slides away on his roller skates to get the Orcs’ order.

Bilbo gives them his best forced smile (though he’s quite sure it looks more like a grimace) before saying his usual opening line.

‘Welcome to Bombur’s Kitchen, what can I get you today?’

He tries not to get too close but Azog only smirks at him and beckons him nearer without answering him.

Bilbo bites his bottom lip in indecision but really, he doesn’t have a choice, though he usually does his job without problems, he can’t afford the risk of being fired.

So he slides closer and regrets it instantly. One of Azog’s thugs gets a hold of his wrist while Azog himself slides an arm around him, through the window, getting his big ugly paw under his shirt and lightly scratching Bilbo’s skin underneath.

The hold on his wrist is painful and the arm makes his hips dig hard in the door. The rough unwanted caress makes him want to vomit and squirm free but he doesn’t want to make a scene, nor does he want to egg them on.

He knows he’s going to have bruises but he swallows his pained and frightened whimper and asks again.

‘What... What would you like to order?’

Azog's smile turns feral as he pulls Bilbo closer still and lets his nails rack painfully on his back. Bilbo can feel his skin breaking and this time cannot stop his pained gasp.

‘S-stop...’

It’s a barely audible whisper but the answering laugh is mocking and loud to his ears.

‘I wouldn’t mind taking a bite out of you poppet.’

The endearment makes his skin crawl and he has this vivid image in his mind where Azog literally takes out a chunk of flesh off of him with his teeth. He wouldn’t put it past him.

Bilbo clenches his eyes shut and swallows the bile down. He can’t make a scene.

 _Everything is going to be okay,_ he thinks to himself _. Just like every other time. They’re just trying to scare you, that all..._

He is not reassured and he can only curse his bad luck when suddenly another thug has grabbed his free wrist. He’s trapped and he knows that from an outsiders view it only looks like he’s leaning against the open window and having a nice chat, like he often does with the other customers.

Bilbo lets out a quiet sob as Azog’s free hand goes to his front and slides down his trousers, cupping his flaccid cock while the one at his back harshly grabs him.

‘No... Don’t! Please stop...’

Tears are running freely down his face and he can’t help but cry out when Azog brutally squeezes his cock and balls, pain lancing through him and he’d have fallen to his knees, had it not been for the tight grip the men had on him.

‘Aren’t you sweet? I could just eat you up. Sing for me poppet.’

A vicious twist is what follows and this time Bilbo shrieks more loudly at the pain being inflicted.

‘Tut, tut poppet. Gotta be quiet if you don’t want to get more hurt, hm?’

As Azog speaks, the one holding his right wrist flips a knife open and presses it to his throat while Azog eyes’ get a dangerous spark in them.

Luck seems to be with him once more though, as suddenly someone pulls him back and away at the same time that two other shadows get a hold of the men holding him, forcing them to let go.

It is only Azog’s surprise that makes him let go of Bilbo instead of holding him more tightly.

He is gently thrust in someone’s arms before his saviour rushes back to help the others. Bilbo curls up in what he realise are Bofur’s arms and finally lets himself cry. They both end up on the ground, Bofur’s back against a car as he whispers sweet nothings and calming words to Bilbo, while Bilbo holds on for dear life.

Bilbo is hurting and scared and he doesn’t think he can face anyone right now.

He doesn’t see the fight between the two gangs, be he can hear it. The blows and insult flyings. Then he hears sirens and a car nearby starting in a hurry and driving away. Then there is silence and heavy breathing before he feels a gentle hand on his forehead pushing his hair away from his eyes.

Bilbo lifts his head to peer up to see Thorin crouching before him looking down at him with concern.

‘You okay little one?’

Bilbo lets out a choked sob and nods. It’s a lie, and they all know it. But though he might not be fine right now, he will be. He has to be. He can’t let them have won that too. So he will be fine, maybe not today or tomorrow, but he will.

‘Thank you.’

It’s a rough whisper. He’s a little ashamed that he had to be rescued but he is more than grateful. He doesn’t want to think of what would have happened had they not intervened.

‘Think nothing of it little one. You’re one of us now. And nobody hurts our burglar.’

His laugh is tearful at that. He doesn’t know why they persist in calling him that, he never stole a thing in his life. But it makes him feel like he belongs, like he’s really one of them and it’s not just words said like that.

Later, when Thorin and his Company have brought him back to their place and he’s curled up in front of cartoons with the twins Fili and Kili (they are Thorin’s nephews he learns) and Ori (Dori and Nori’s little brother) that are closer to him in age than the rest of them, he learns that Bombur, his boss, is Bofur’s brother and that his job is secure, even if he takes a few days to recover and that it is him that called the cops when the fight broke out.

He wonders why the police didn’t ask him questions, but Balin tells him that the officer that answered the call was Bard, a friend of the family that has bad history with Azog and his band. So no questions needed to be asked.

Bilbo is grateful, because he doesn’t think he could have told someone what had happened in all the glorious details. It still makes him want to puke only thinking about it.

Still, he lets Oin, the medic of the group, look at him, to make sure he is indeed physically alright.

He is happy to know that apart from some bruises and scratches he is fine. He will be sore for a few days, but will have no lasting effects of the attack once the bruises have faded away.

And here, in a house not his own, with people he barely knows, in a puppy dog pile with the three younger ones, nodding off as the older men look over them with smiles on their faces and soft eyes, he can’t help but feel at home and like he found another family to belong to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry Bilbo!  
> I'm a big meany with him this last two chapters. But I can't help it. And at least it all ends well, and that's all that matters, no?  
> It will get better for Bilbo, I promise. He won't always end up being a victim. There will be some BAMF Bilbo.  
> But what can I say, I like having the Company coming to his rescue...  
> Hope you liked this chapter!  
> And thank you all for the kudos/comments/subscriptions! 
> 
> Again, this was not beta-ed. I shall re-read the lot of it and correct any mistake I see later down the road.


	4. Superhero (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sting is a masked thief that retired after an altercation with the renown hero Oakenshield. Imagine his surprise when the latter stomps through his door for diner uninvited with 12 other heros with him, demanding Sting get back in service.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have the next prompt early.  
> Superheroes! Thief!Bilbo... Moody!Thorin... BAMF Bilbo! No warning that I can think of. Beware of the sassy hobbit.

At thirty three, the infamous thief Sting gave his last bow after a spectacular showdown with the renown hero and protector of Erebor, Oakenshield, and nigh on twenty years of a fabulous career behind him.

Sting had thought it the proper time to leave the mask and the fun behind him and continue his life as an upstanding citizen.

Thus, after that night, Sting disappeared never to be heard of again and one Bilbo Baggins settled down in his ancestral home after years of traveling the world.

 

Nearing forty, Bilbo Baggins had amassed quite a fortune at his name. Both by legal means, and those less so.

Though Sting had only stolen the obscenely rich and selfish to give it back to those that needed it more, he had still kept some of it to invest, as well as kept a few trinkets as souvenirs of all and every one of his jobs. Which made for quite the substantial egg nest.

To add to the money and goods he had inherited at the death of his parents, other monetary and building investments made his wealth all the more important.

But his best kept secret (well, second best), was the name he had made for himself writing racy adventure novels under a pen name (after all, it wouldn’t do to give another reason for his neighbours and relatives to gossip and grumble about his lack of being a proper gentleman).

All of this made for quite the comfortable life. He ate well, his pantry was always plentiful, he could spend his days doing whatever it was he wanted to do, without fear that he would ever go wanting.

So his days were filled with writing, gardening, cooking, reading and generally indulging himself in life and making the most of it.

And though he had taken a few kilos since he last put his mask on, he had been careful to stay fit. After all, if he had learned one thing, it was that you never knew what life reserved you and that you best be prepared for every eventuality.

He would never be so happy for his foresight that a few days later...

 

Bilbo was eating his dinner after a long day spent outside, walking the woods near his property, when there was a commotion on his front lawn and his entrance door was suddenly kicked open with a resounding BANG.

Jumping out of his chair with haste, he grabbed the first thing that could serve as a weapon (his trusty cricket bat), blew out the candle he had used to illuminate his kitchen and retreated in the shadows as if he had never left them.

He had never been more surprised in his life when a minute later, Oakenshield himself came stomping in his kitchen, glaring fiercely at the shadows around it.

_What, for the love of the Valar, was that oaf of a superhero doing in his kitchen?!_

Said oaf’s glare intensified and he let out a growl.

‘Get out of your hiding place burglar and come insult me to my face if you dare!’

_Ah. So he had said that aloud then._

Bilbo rolled his eyes. Nothing for it then. Still, there was nothing stopping him from having a bit of fun first. Bilbo smirked and, keeping to the shadows, quietly crept behind the beast of a man.

Leaning up on tiptoes, he whispered in Oakenshield's ear.

‘You know, it’s considered the height of rudeness to come uninvited in someones home and interrupt their dinner.’

Oakenshield jumped in surprised and quickly turned around, only to find nothing but the echo of a laugh in the shadows. Turning left and right to try and find Sting, he caught sight of something in his peripheral vision. He swiftly turned on himself only to find the shorter man calmly eating his dinner by candlelight with a taunting smirk on his pretty face and his eyes merrily dancing with amusement.

‘Evening Oakenshield. What brings you in my humble abode at this late hour?’

Oakenshield growled again and strode to the table and sat none too gently on the opposite chair, crossing his arms defiantly and glaring back at the smaller man.

He did not want to do this, but he had no choice. Gritting his teeth (which Bilbo thought could not be healthy. _Must be the stress, poor dear_ ) Oakenshield nearly spat out his next words.

‘The Company and I need your set of skills, burglar... I am here to... ask for your help. Please.’

Bilbo is glad that he had been sitting already and not drinking anything at that moment, for he is quite sure indeed that he would have made a fool of himself otherwise (and spitting his priceless wine on his -unwanted- guest would have been a shame indeed).

Bilbo waits a tick to see if Oakenshield will crack up and laugh and say all that had only been one big joke, but from the way the man in shifting on his chair and looking ready to pop a vessel, Bilbo is left to assume that no, this is real. Alas.

Bilbo sighs and, closing his eyes, rubs his nose. _In what has he gotten himself into this time?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one, but it had too, otherwise it would have ended as a fully fledged story in its own right and it's not the point right now.  
> This one might be continued later on too... I like myself a bit of a sassy hobbit. I don't think any boy could ask for more. Then again I do like making my Bilbo suffer too.  
> I suppose one doesn't mean I can't have the other too. I'll have to think on that. ;)


	5. Western (Bilbo/Dori implied - Mature)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo and Nori have known each other for years, and together have become the best pair of cons. All goes pear shaped when rangers Dwalin Fundinson and Thorin Durin are sent after them and Nori’s brothers are taken hostage by a man named Smaug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cowboy/Western prompt. I hope it won't be too much of a disappointment. This is not my style at all.  
> There is some hinted Bilbo/Dori and Nori/Dwalin. Violence, of course. And threats and talks of torture and rape.

Bilbo Baggins and his good friend Nori Thorrason where reclining on the porch, smoking their pipes, watching the sun set on the arid lands around their temporary hideout.

'Where to next Nori?'

'I don't know you but I wouldn't say no to going back home for some time.'

'Hm. I miss Dori.'

Nori snorted. 'I don't know how you tolerate all his nagging about proper behaviour and the honest life.'

'We all have our bad sides... Plus if your big brother was like us, who would be looking after Ori? He's too young for a life of cons and running away.'

'True. I miss the lad. Bet ye he grew like a weed again. It won't be long before he's taller than you are!'

'That isn't hard to do now is it.'

'Our affairs are done here. The money is secured and nothing points too much in our direction. We could be heading back to Erebor tomorrow at first light. The horses are rested enough. Shouldn't take us more than a month to get there if all goes well.'

'Sounds good. I'll pack the necessities. Maybe we could stop in Breeland to send a telegram to Dori. Give him fair warning.'

It was later in the evening that both men snuffed out the candles and oil lamp illuminating the main room and went to bed before waking up at dawn and setting off back towards home.

 

Bilbo’s parents had died from influenza when he was still a young lad, barely out of boyhood. He had managed to sell the house his Da had built for his Mam and all their possessions, for a price he knew to be far under what it was really worth, to one of his distant relatives and had left the Shire as soon as he could.

He had not fared well. Unused to the hard life of the road and the dangers of being a lone traveler.

He had met Nori just shy of Rivendell. A couple of years older, the lad had tried to make him another victim of his slippery fingers when he thought better of it and took Bilbo under his wings. Light on his feet and with good reflexes, Bilbo had taken to pickpocketing like a fish to water.

A year later, pockets full and more weary, Nori had taken Bilbo with him back to his home in the Blue Mountains. There, he met Dori and Ori. Dori was nearly ten years older that Bilbo himself, and Ori barely had two years of life behind him.

Bilbo had learned about their mother, who died giving birth to Ori, being a soiled dove and them all having different fathers, which explained why none of the three looked alike at all.

Dori had glared at Nori for bringing Bilbo in on his life of sins but had been more than happy to fuss over him and help him learn to ride and shoot a rifle. Though he was quite happy to know that thanks to his Mam, Bilbo was a good hand with a revolver already.

Life in the Blue Mountains had been hard, mostly because of the ghost of their mother’s reputation following them, even though Dori had done his best to better their station.

A few months later, it was decided that they were going to try their luck elsewhere, where they would not be known and they could perhaps settle down better.

The brothers wouldn’t hear a word about Bilbo leaving them to it, but insisted that he come with them.

The journey had been long and hard, but when they finally arrived in Erebor it was to be well received.

With the money Dori had managed to save and the one Bilbo and Nori had collected, they had had enough to settle down in a big enough house for the four of them as well as enough for Dori to start his own business.

Nori and Bilbo had decided to work at helping Dori, at least until he could do without or had enough money to hire helps.

It didn’t take long for Dori’s restaurant to gather popularity and he was quickly able to hire a young cook called Bombur to help him out.

Still, it was hard to make the ends meet. So it was sooner than they thought when Bilbo and Nori started again with their less than legal activities.

And from there, thing escalated rather rapidly. From pickpocketing and lifting they passed to burglary, then robbery to finally end up being con-men.

Though Dori disapproved, he didn’t say much at that time. It put food on the table and made sure that Ori had enough of everything and could go to school.

Alas, trouble found them too...

 

They were passing through Greenwood when they were stopped by one of the street urchins.

‘Mister Nori! Mister Nori, sir! A telegram from your brother is waiting for you.’

Nori thanked the boy and threw him a coin before directing his horse to the telegraph’s office.

Dori’s telegram was as follow:

_Both happy you coming home STOP Waiting for you STOP Be careful STOP Erebor Marshals Fundinson and Oakenshield sent after Hillside Brothers STOP_

Well that wasn’t the most reassuring of telegrams, thought Bilbo.

‘We’ll have to be careful and lay low, maybe not do anything while we’re in Erebor still. Though I doubt we’d have to hide. After all, no one knows what the Hillside Brothers look like...’

Bilbo hummed at Nori. He was right, there was probably nothing to worry about.

Still, it wouldn’t be the first time that this particular pair of Erebor Marshals gave them troubles.

And though Bilbo wouldn’t say anything about it to his face, he’s quite certain there’s _something_ going on between Nori and Marshal Fundinson...

The two young men make good time going from Greenwood to Lake Town and then finally to the bustling city of Erebor.

They decide to put Myrtle and Bungo, their horses, to the stables first then head to their home.

All is dark when they arrive and Bilbo feels the hair at the back of his neck rise in warning. Something wasn’t right.

Sharing a troubled look, they cautiously approach the front door only to find it hanging on its hinges.

Each are quick to draw their revolver before they silently enter their home.

With no light, neither can see further that a few meters away so Bilbo marches to the main oil lamp and lights it up.

The sight the greats him sends shivers of dread down his back. Something is very wrong indeed.

Their home has been ransacked. The furniture is mostly broken or out of place, what filled the cupboards is now on the floor and all fabric has been ripped apart.

‘Dori? Ori?’

Bilbo advances to the kitchen and his boots crunch on broken glass while he can hear Nori climbing the stairs two at a time to go inspect the bedrooms.

The kitchen is as much of a mess as the main room, but here it looks more as if there has been a violent struggle.

He lights the kitchen lamp and has to swallow down bile. There are bullet holes in some of the walls and on the floor, the window in front of the sink is cracked and there are traces of blood at several places.

He feels Nori embrace him from behind and rest his head on his shoulder, breathing hard.

‘No trace of them... It looks like they took Ori while he was sleeping.’

‘Dori put up a fight. I don’t know if the blood here is his or his attackers... He’s the strongest man I’ve known, they must have been a few of them to be able to subdue him. They would’ve left him here had he been dead, yeah? So he must be alive, if not okay... Both of them... Right Nori?’

Bilbo feels young and lost all of a sudden. He’s twenty six now, but he doesn’t know what to do with his rock gone. He never thought that he would return home to find him not there when he needed him. It’s Dori that keeps them safe. What can they do when they don’t even know who has them or why?

‘Of course they’re a’right. Ye’ll see...’

Nori squeezes him harder and he has to stop himself from crying, because he knows if he does, he won’t be able to stop.

 

‘Oh, how touching! Look at the pups, all lost because they stole a bone that’s too big for them to handle...’

Bilbo and Nori whirled around, guns at the ready only to see a smirking Smaug lazily resting against the doorway.

‘I’ve been waiting for you boys for some time now.’

Smaug is amused when the lads keep their ground but sees the fear seeping through them. _Oh, yes. They know. They know how deep a hole they’ve dug for themselves._

Bilbo swallows, this is not good. Not good at all.

‘What do you want Smaug?’

‘Tut, tut lad. You know very well what I want. You stole something of mine, and I want it back.’

‘It wasn’t yours in the first place!’

Too quick for any of the boys to do anything, Smaug has Bilbo pinned to wall by the throat.

‘I would be careful with how I speak to my betters, if I were you, pet. What a pity it would be for your boyfriend to find you disfigured and missing your tongue...’

Bilbo whimpers and tries to get him to let go, but Smaug only presses harder until Bilbo sees white on the sides of his vision.

‘What stops me from killing you right now?’

Smaug let out a chuckle as he feels the muzzle of the gun against his head.

‘My dear Nori, you should know better by now. Whatever should happen to your dear brothers when Azog doesn’t see me come back. Oh, the beauty of it. Imagine The Defiler let loose on the little one. He’ll be turning twelve isn’t he?’

Nori growls but retreats, for he _does_ know better.

Smaug lets Bilbo go and the lad falls to the ground coughing and spluttering.

As Smaug looks at him, satisfied that his message has passed, and he can’t stop thinking that perhaps, once all this business is done, instead of killing the lot of them, he will keep this little one. He’s quite the pretty boy and Smaug would enjoy breaking him. _Yes, that does look very appealing... But business first._

Smaug turns back to return near the door.

‘I want my Arkenstone. And I will have it back, for you will bring it to me, if you want your brothers to live. But I’m afraid that it won’t be enough. You’ve cost me money, time and men. You’ll have to make it up to me, I’m afraid. There’s a gold train convoy passing through Rohan in a few weeks. You’ll be doing my job for me. You have two months. After that, we’ll start chopping off limbs. I’ll be seeing you lads.’

On those words, Smaug turned on his heels and headed out and into the shadows where he came from.

 

Alone once again, Nori crumbles to the ground near Bilbo and put his head in his hands.

_What has he done?!_

And he knows he’s the only one to blame for this one. Bilbo had tried vehemently to dissuade him from stealing from Smaug, but when he had seen that Nori would do it, with or without Bilbo, the latter had sighed and gone with him, not wanting to let him face the danger alone.

And now, not only had he put Bilbo in danger, but his innocent brothers too.

He felt Bilbo’s arm around him and the lad put his head on his shoulder.

‘We’ll find a way... We’ll get them back safe.’

‘Bilbo... He’s going to kill us all.’

‘Not if we do as he says...’

‘No, Bilbo! He just wants us to make his job easier. Either we’ll die trying to do this, or if we don’t we get him a shitload of gold and he kills us afterwards. He won’t let us go after this, lad.’

Bilbo bites his lip and he knows deep down that Smaug is the kind of man to do that.

‘What are we going to do then? We can’t just go with it and walk to our death! We can’t just do nothing and leave Ori and Dori there. You heard what he said about Azog and Ori...’

‘I know! Those are _my_ brothers we’re talking about!’

Bilbo bowed his head at the shout and hunched his shoulders. They might not have been his brothers by blood, but it didn’t mean he didn’t love them.

Nori sighed and took Bilbo back in his arms.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I know yer worried for them too.’

 

They stayed silent for some time. Taking comfort in the other and thinking of scenarios where they could get out of this pickle without too much casualties.

They’d been there for an hour, talking quietly, when they heard the distinctive noise of a revolver being cocked.

‘Lay down your arms lads. The chase is done and now it’s the rope for you.’

As Nori and Bilbo slowly do as told, they share a look.

_Well, it might not be ideal, but the probability of surviving this would be much better with the Marshals with them instead of against them. Now, how to convince them to help..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I thought I'd make it a one-shot but it was getting out of hand. So here have a premise of what this could be with some more work.  
> I have no idea if I'll continue. Maybe, as I'd like to develop the characters relationship and all that, but as Westerns really aren't my style of writing, I'll have to see.
> 
> Not beta-ed, nor did I re-read it (shame on me). I shall edit and go through all previous chapters during the weekend, as I really don't have the time to do so during the week (what with work and everything) and writing this challenge takes most of my free time. I'll say so when I'm done editing, though apart from grammar mistakes I don't think there'll be much change.
> 
> Thanks for all your comments/kudos/subscriptions/bookmarks! I love you all (yes, yes, yes).


	6. 1920s/Mafia (Bilbo/Balin - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin Durinson is the head of The Company, officious owner of the town of Erebor, he has his hands in most of the important businesses there and the surrounding towns. Bilbo Baggins is an accountant just arrived from a little town in the country far in the west. He gets mixed up with them and attracts the attention of Balin Fundinson, right hand man of Thorin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1920s/Mafia prompt. No warnings that I can think of.

Bilbo was just out of university, now a fully fledged accountant, when he left his natal town of Hobbiton to move to the bustling city of Erebor.

Though his parents were weary to see him go, leave the country to a big city like Erebor, Bilbo himself was particularly excited about his move.

He'd heard so much about it! Both good and bad. Tales of wealth and violence and corruption. Things Bilbo thought to be purely rumours and fairytales.

Bilbo put his naïveté down to him being young and having never left his hometown. He should have known better and life proceeded to teach him a lesson he wasn't sure he was ready to learn.

 

Professor Gandalf Grey had been the head of his department when Bilbo was still learning. He had been an old friend of the family and had taken Bilbo under his wings at a young age when he saw Bilbo had an affinity with numbers.

As such, when he learnt that Bilbo wanted to leave the Shire to go in one of the numerous big cities of Middle-Earth but didn’t want to leave it without the security of having a placement, he set forth to find a place for him, using some of the favours he had garnered along the way.

 

It is how Bilbo Baggins, freshly arrived from the train station, found himself be led into the office of his new boss, a Mr Groínarson the CEO of Arkenstone Investments.

‘Ah! Master Baggins. Pleased to meet you indeed. Gandalf has told me all about you. Take a seat, please.’

Bilbo blushes but does as he is told.

‘I hope Professor Grey didn’t say too many bad things.’

‘None whatsoever young man! He was quite eloquent as to your qualities and abilities. You were valedictorian, were you not?’

‘I was, sir.’

‘Indeed! We’ll be keeping an eye on you young man, we have great hopes and expectations for you.’

Bilbo isn’t sure if he wants to strangle or embrace his old professor. At the moment this looks like a poisoned gift. He’ll have to be at his best always, from fear of falling short of the pedestal Gandalf put him on. High expectation indeed.

‘Thank you sir’ is all Bilbo says, though.

 

Bilbo has been in Erebor for a month now. His employer had procured for him a tiny flat not too far away from the office. It's quite different from home and it takes time to get used to. Though the electricity is fine, there is no hot water and the only thing that will keep him warm once winter hits is the wood-burning stove from the kitchen (though Bilbo is thinking of investing in an oil powered heater if the winter is too harsh). It is also spartan, the only furniture there are a desk and chair that doubles as dining table, an armchair, his bed, bedside table and chest of draws. The kitchen has only the bare necessities and his bathroom is shared in the hallway. Still, it has become home, especially once he has finished unpacking his belongings that arrived by hired truck a week after he did. Books litter the floor in piles, his radio is on his bedside table and he has put some family photographs where there is space.

Though he is happy to say that he is not often home. He has found it surprisingly easy to make friends, even if the majority of them are collegues, and those that aren’t are related to them in some way.

 

He meets Ori first. He is Mr Gloin’s secretary and is just our of high school. They share a love of books and knitting. Ori is a sweet boy and though young sometimes seems older than Bilbo himself. Ori introduces him to his older brothers during his first week there. Dori, the eldest, comes everyday to eat lunch with his youngest brother. He owns a tea shop with a man named Bombur. When he learns that Bilbo has for lunch only lackluster sandwiches he takes it on himself to take one more serving of what Bombur made for the brothers from then on. And all attempts from Bilbo to repay him in any way are gently, but firmly, turned down. Nori, the middle child, steals his pocket watch when they meet, and gives it back to him with a laugh when they part ways. Bilbo is amused when he hears Dori reprimanding his brother as he is leaving.

 

During that first week he also meets Bofur. The man never leaves his old derby for some reason Bilbo cannot fathom and it has often led him to wonder if he ever takes it off to bath or sleep. But the man always has a smile on his face and a laugh to share. Though he is cruder than Bilbo had even known, he is also inherently kind. Bofur very well might be Bilbo’s best friend, besides. He is surprised to know that Bombur is in fact his brother. A very kind, if shy, young man who likes eating food as much as he likes preparing it. Bilbo has enjoyed more than one evening spent around a good dinner sharing recipes and cooking tips. He meets Bifur last, the man came back from war with a head injury that should have killed him but instead stole his ability to talk and write English, though he can still understand it. He now relies on his natal Russian and sign language. Which Bilbo insists on learning to be able to communicate without interpreter with the intimidating but kind toymaker.

 

Mr Gloin (and though he has been asked to, Bilbo cannot seem to drop his boss’ title and he is slightly embarrassed at how much time it finally took him to call him by his first name)  has invited him several time for dinner at his home, where Bilbo met his much spoken of wife and child. There, he also meets Mr Gloin’s brother, Oin. A kind older looking gentlemanly doctor that uses a hearing aid. Though Bilbo is quite sure that it’s an excuse to not have to listen to his brother waxing poetry on his family, and that he can actually hear perfectly well...

 

He first sees Mr Balin when he comes at the office to talk with Mr Gloin. Bilbo cannot stop himself from staring, blushing fiercely when he realises and going quickly back to his work. The man cannot be described as anything else but strikingly handsome. Though on the short side (but taller than Bilbo himself) and with a belly that speaks of love of good food, his perfectly cut suit cannot hide the rippling muscles underneath. At first sight he would look old, grand-fatherly even. But the impression doesn’t last long and is only due to the pure white neatly cut hair and longish beard. His face is smooth except for laughing lines and his eyes are full of kindness. All in all Bilbo thinks the man mustn't be more fifty, probably a bit younger, and still very handsome indeed, even if nearly twice his age.

 

Balin Fundinson has heard many a things concerning the young Bilbo Baggins. But as he strode to his cousin's office, he was not prepared to see how prettily handsome the young man was. Nor was he prepared for the prideful delight that crept through him when he caught the lad staring and getting flustered at being discovered. He even catches himself wondering how far down that blush might go, before shaking himself out of it and greeting Ori at his desk and noticing Gloin’s office door open and the man waiting for him.

‘Cousin! Come, come. Take a seat.’

The door closes firmly after them and Balin tries, without much success, to leave all thought of Bilbo Baggins behind it.

Comfortably sitting in one of the armchairs in his cousin’s office, he sips at the tea that had been waiting for him.

‘You wanted to speak about something Gloin?’

‘Yes, yes. About Bilbo, yes. Our new accountant.’

‘I know who he is, Gloin, I was there when we talked about hiring him. Is there something wrong with him? Is he not doing his job properly?’

‘Quite right. And no. No, he’s perfect really. Gandalf did not lie. A bit too perfect and meticulous perhaps. As I fear he might start asking question not too far in the future.’

‘Ah. That’s bound to become a problem.’

‘Which is why I contacted you. The boy is good and it would be a shame to have to lose him. And he is friends with most of the Company already, the only ones he has not met yet are Thorin, the twins, your brother and yourself. They’ve readily accepted him in and perhaps, it would be easier to simply include the lad in. He’s a good boy and he would be an asset.’

Balin hums and thinks back to what he has heard of Bilbo and the glimpse he got of the boy.

Gloin’s idea is sound and indeed could only be beneficial. The primary obstacle he can see is Thorin himself.

The head of the Company had not been keen on hiring the lad in the first place, only Gandalf’s insistence and the favour he owed had made him agree to it. He’d not be thrilled with the idea of including an outsider to the business.

But as his right-hand man, Balin could convince him to see the advantage of such a move. It would be a win-win situation.

Hold off making the lad disappear when he starts asking questions and start including him in the family business. If he took to it well, they won a valued accountant and loyal friend, and if not they had only pushed back killing the boy for a couple of months.

And though the mere idea of suggesting killing Bilbo made his inside clench, it was his job to see to the wellbeing of the Company.

He only hoped that the lad wouldn’t go running for the hills...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for not posting this yesterday (though today was the day it should have been posted in the first place as I gave an early chapter), but Life decided to be a b**** and gave me a migraine all day that didn't give me leave to write anything. And of course, when it was getting better, I managed to do something a bit not good a one muscle or another near my left shoulder blade, giving me a whole new level of pains. Mighty inconvenient when you also happen to be left handed and can lift your arm without it slamming back down automatically because of the pain. If anyone's up to giving me a massage, feel free.
> 
> Anyhow! Hope you like this chapter. It's a premise (again) and will be continued at a later date. I really want to see where this will go and I love Bilbo/Balin so I want to continue writing them. Lots of ideas for this one!
> 
> Next coming is steampunk! Which is by far more my style. *happy dance*
> 
> This chapter wasn't beta-ed and bla bla bla... You know the drift by now. ;)


	7. Steampunk (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is considered a mad scientist in his natal Shire, for he is the only hobbit finding any pleasure in tinkering and creating gadgets and gizmos. He is resigned to be a pharia and called Mad Baggins behind his back, until one night an old friend comes knocking on his door asking for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steampunk prompt. Short one. No warnings that I can think of.

‘Look! It’s Mad Baggins again. I wonder what he’s making this time?’

‘Did you hear the explosion coming from his smial the other day? The fool could be heard swearing like a Dwarf all the way down to the market!’

‘It’s not respectable! It’s that Took blood. Such a shame to taint Baggins blood with _that_!’

 

Bilbo had already heard them all and shrugged it off easily. He was used to the less than subtle insults and gossip behind his back. They had been an active part of his life since childhood. Having an adventuress of a mother had made him less than respectable by default, and him following in her footsteps and adding the sin of tinkering had only made it worse.   
Still, the Shire was his home, and he’d be damned before he let wagging tongues make him flee his home.

Oh, yes, sometimes he left for several months at a time to catch a breath; leaving his home in the good care of his neighbour and friend Hamfast Gamgee, but he always had Bag End to return too, and even with those sometimes nasty Hobbits, it was always a pleasure to be back home.

 

Slamming his front door with a bit more force than was strictly necessary, Bilbo sighed and went to his workshop.

He’d been in Bree the whole week, taking advantage of a passing caravan of Dwarrows to buy new material he needed to restock. And as always it had been a pleasure to talk with the tinkering race that were the Dwarrows, that were intrigued by the only one of the Little-Folk that was interested in the mechanics of their craft and not only the finished product. And he often had ideas popping in his head at those time. Short trips to Bree were always quite productive.

Sitting in front if his clustered workbench, after putting down all his shopping in their proper place, Bilbo took one of his pending project and decided to fiddle with it until it was time to make dinner, planning on ignoring afternoon tea.

 

He’d been on the same piece for a couple of hours, adjusting this and that, when there was an incessant knocking on his front door.

Grumbling and lifting his work goggles to his head, Bilbo brought down his transmitter from its resting place and took it near his mouth.

‘This better be important! Whoever is at my door. You’re lucky I wasn’t working on anything incendiary.’

The voice that answered boomed through the receiver placed in one of the corner of the ceiling, reverberating through the room.

‘It is Gandalf, Bilbo. I have business to discuss with you.’

Bother and confusticate the wizard! Why did he always feel the need to make his voice louder than it should be?!

Massaging his temples, Bilbo grumbled back to Gandalf ‘I might be half your size, Master Wizard, but I can assure you that I am not deaf. Please cease and desist with you intimidating tactics!’

Bilbo got up and went through his smial to open his front door to his unexpected guest.

‘As prickly as always, me dear Bilbo!’ Was all Gandalf said in greeting.

‘And a good afternoon to you too, Gandalf, what a pleasure it is to have you arrive unannounced. Again. Please do come in and make yourself at home.’

Not that Gandalf ever hesitated in doing just that. Gandalf swept past him (as much as one can sweep when bending nearly in half), and Bilbo waited with a little smirk as, without fault, the candelier found it’s mark on Gandalf’s head.

‘I thought you said you were working on something to accommodate that damn thing, Bilbo?’

‘Oh, I did. I’ve had it done for a few years now. But I find it entertaining how, even though you’ve been coming to Bag End for decades and that the chandelier has been there since the beginning, you still manage to forget it is there...’

Bilbo grinned as Gandalf sputtered and pressed a button near the door that engaged a pulley system to lift the chandelier up into what used to be the ceiling and still emit light with a system if mirrors.

‘I’m surprised you didn’t try to show off before now, Bilbo my boy.’

‘I did. Just not to you. I’ve had some Rangers come and visit from time to time, they appreciate it more than you do.’

Gandalf harrumphed and took his seat in the parlor, sending a pointed look to Bilbo, who only rolled his eyes and went to the kitchen to prepare afternoon tea. So much for skipping it.

 

‘An adventure, eh?’

‘Indeed. It will be dangerous and the company will be in need of your particular sets of skills.’

‘Thirteen dwarrows and not one of them is a tinker? I still don’t understand how that can be.’

‘Ah, well... It is not my story to tell...’

‘As if _that_ ever stopped you before.’

Gandalf ignored Bilbo’s snorted interruption and continued. ‘And though your gadgets could be most useful, I was more thinking of your skills at burglary...’

Bilbo groaned and Gandalf grinned. The fool.

Of course if had to be those he spoke of. And there was no stopping Gandalf from having what he wanted. No matter that the only person he’d ever stolen anything from was Lobelia and that it was things she had stolen from him in the first place.

 

Needless to say that Gandalf was ecstatic when Bilbo have in to the meddling old nincompoop. And he left with an ominous sounding ‘I shall inform the others’ and told him that he should expect them by tomorrow night.

Now Bilbo had to prepare a feast for thirteen dwarrows, one wizard and himself and decide what to pack.

And to say he had been so looking forward to tinkering and playing with his new purchases. _Ah well, no use crying over spilt milk._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extremely short chapter, I know. But it just didn't want to write itself. So I might or might not continue it at a later date. Depends how my muse goes. Which is strange as steampunk is my usual style of writing but here it just didn't want to.  
> Hope you like it anyway. :) Next is fairytales!


	8. Fairy Tale (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and Kili follow their oblivious uncle into the forest when he goes hunting before the winter becomes too harsh. In all their mischief, they get lost and find the hut of an elf called Thranduil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fairy tale prompt. I used Hansel and Gretel, though I twisted it to accommodate me... ;)  
> Gen. though if you squint at the end, there are different pairings possible for Bilbo.  
> BAMF!Bilbo here. Mention of cannibalism and slavery. Dwarflings Fili and Kili are trouble.

Fili and Kili have always been a mischievous pair of dwarflings. And if had often led them to trouble and for their uncle Thorin to look down to them with a disappointed scowl, when the only thing they wanted was for him to be proud of them.

 

One day, not long before winter would become too harsh, Thorin went out in the forest nearby their home to hunt and gather wood.

The boys decided that they had nothing better to do than to follow him in the woods.

Oblivious to his nephews’ plan, Thorin went deeper and deeper to find game to hunt.

All was well, until Kili got bored after watching their Uncle kill the first deer and managed to convince his older brother that playing a game of hide and seek was a good idea.

It was only later, as the sun had gone further west, that the laughing boys had realised that there was a slight problem in their plan.

Looking around and finding no traces of Thorin, Fili and Kili had started calling for him and looking around for the marks that he had left on trees as to be able to find his way back out of the forest.

Alas, there was neither uncle nor marks to be found, and the boys were well and truly lost.

After a moment of shouting at each other and then sulking around, Fili decided that it would be best if they took off in a direction to see if it would take them anywhere.

So off they went, trotting along and looking left and right for any sign of their uncle or his marks, only to find nothing at all.

 

It was the next day that, tired and hungry, the brothers found the most strange but welcomed sight: a house entirely made out of sweets. The walls and roof were gingerbread and cake and the windows clear sugar. Without thought, both boys threw themselves at it and started eating whole chunks of it.

They hadn’t been eating for five minutes that the door of the cottage opened with a bang and out came a tall, fair haired elf in robes sporting a scowl that bet even their uncle’s.

‘And what, do you think you are doing?! Eating my home, no less!’

The elf was squinting at them, clearly short sighted but his anger was palpable and the brothers were ready to flee again, had it not been for the fact that they were more likely to fall flat on their face from exhaustion than go very far away from where they were.

‘We’re sorry!’

‘We lost our way in the forest and have been looking for a way home since yesterday. My brother and I are so hungry that when we saw your house made of food, we couldn’t resist.’

‘Lost and hungry you say? Poor dears. Come inside and I shall make you some dinner.’

The boys didn’t think twice, as hungry as they were and nearly ran the tall man over when battling to know which would enter the cottage first.

The man, who introduced himself as Thranduil, fed them a very satisfying supper that filled them up so much they felt they could not move an inch, even to save their lives. Once their belly satisfied, exhaustion caught up with them, and the two boys fell asleep in their chairs.

 

When Fili woke up, it was to find himself locked outside in a cage. To his dismay it was a dwarven lock too, unopenable unless you had the key or the proper skills, which he didn’t. Too bad Nori wasn’t there...

The door opened and to Fili’s horror Kili came out nearly tumbling, clearly having been pushed by the elf, a metal collar around his neck and a chain leading from it to the elf’s hand.

Kili gave him a tight smile and passed him a plate full of food through a little door on the side of Fili’s cage.

Thranduil put his end of the chain in a hook on the wall and Kili sat down on the ground in front of the cage.

‘Make sure he eats it all. I’ll come back to get you later for you to do your other chores.’

With that, the elf went back inside to do Mahal knows what.

Once Kili was sure he was out of earshot, he scrambled to his feet and clutched at Fili through the cage.

‘I’m so sorry Fee! This is all my fault!’

Fili embraced his little brother as best he could through the barres.

‘Don’t worry Kee. We’ll get out of here. You’ll see. And if we don’t, I’m sure uncle will come looking for us.’

Getting a hold of his brother by the shoulders, he looked Kili over.

‘Is he treating you well?’

‘I’m fine. He just gives me chores to do around the house. He’s snarky, and grumbles a lot, but he’s nearly blind. He fed me before we came out to give the plate to you.’

At his brother's words, Fili remembered his hunger and took the plate to eat what was given to him.

‘Do you know why I’m in this cage, brother?’

Kili bit his lower lip with a frown.

‘I heard him say that he was going to fatten you up so he could eat you later...’

‘Ah...’

And really, what more was there to say to that?

 

Fili was fed hearty meals three times a day and those were the only time he could spend with his brother, as Thranduil seemed to run him ragged.

It is during one of those meals that Kili whispered to him in fearful awe that Thranduil was some kind of magic wielder and that it seemed that they were not the first to fall prey to the elf, which confirmed Fili’s suspicions that the bones he had found in some corner of his cage were from other prisoners.

On the second day, when Thranduil came out to bring Kili back inside after dinner, he asked for Fili to stick his hand out so he could have a feel of his finger.

With a stroke of genius and remembering that the efl was half blind, instead of sticking out his own finger, he took hold of one of the smallest bone for the elf to feel.

Thranduil, oblivious to Fili’s trick and Kili’s amusement behind his back, grumbled at the lack of his captive fattening up and went back inside, dragging Kili with him.

 

This routine continued for several weeks, the boys being held captive and tricking Thranduil in thinking that Fili was not getting any bigger.

But one morning, Kili was more reserved as he kept company to his brother as he ate.

‘I heard him grumbling about being impatient about you. I think he’s planning on cooking the both of us, whether he finds us fat enough or no...’

Fili tried to keep his despair at that news at bay, there was no need to upset his little brother more than he was after all, but what were they going to do? They had to get out, but they had found no way to do so in the weeks they had been there.

Hopefully, luck was on their side.

 

The next morning, Thranduil left them to go into the forest around his cottage, making sure both brothers were secured and couldn’t go anywhere.

It hadn’t been half an hour when Fili and Kili heard rustling nearby.

Then out came the strangest creature they had ever seen. Mature looking, but completely beardless and some inches shorter than them, it had slightly pointed ears and incongruously large and hairy feet. On his back was strapped a bow, the arrow filled quiver at his hip.

‘Ah ha!’ It exclaimed as it saw them.

Quietly (and the brothers didn’t know someone could be so quiet) the creature walked towards them, with a slight smile on it’s face.

Once it front of them, it bowed low ‘Bilbo Baggins, at your service.’

Ingrained manners made the boys respond in kind, before Kili couldn’t hold in his curiosity anymore.

‘What are you?’

Fili groaned at his brother’s rudeness, and was surprised when the creature -Bilbo only snickered.

‘I’m a hobbit. We live not too far away from here, in the Shire, but tend to keep to ourselves.’

‘What are you doing here then?’

The next was said as if the answer to Fili’s question was as obvious as the nose in the middle of a face.

‘Why, to rescue you of course!’

Needless to say that Fili and Kili were gobsmacked, gaping (quite unattractively, if Bilbo said so himself) at him.

Bilbo reached under his tunic and took out what looked like a small tool pouch. Approaching the cage further, he set about fiddling with his tools at the lock.

‘As a Baggins, I normally wouldn’t be out of the Shire, family responsibilities and respectability and all that. But I am also a Took, through my mother you see, and I take more after her, to the constant astonishment and consternation of the Bagginses. So when we started having some of our population disappear after they went in the woods bordering the Shire I volunteered to have a look. Now that my mothers passed, I’m the only one that’s ever gone anywhere past Bree and that has decent skills with knife and bow. And I learned some other skills along the way, though don’t go repeating that to any other hobbit, please. Lovely dwarf, Nori, taught me some tricks and gifted me with these tools. Haven’t seen him in a while...’

The brothers continued to listen as Bilbo prattle on, perking up when they heard that the tools they were mentally scoffing at were of dwarven make and that the skills the hobbit had, had been learnt from a sure source.

It wasn’t long before the lock clicked open and Fili could finally walk freely, and Bilbo immediately went to work on the lock keeping the collar around Kili’s neck closed.

While Bilbo was occupied, the lock more difficult as it was smaller, the brothers took upon themselves to tell him what they had learned while guests of Thranduil.

Bilbo grew sombre, when he heard about the bones and the most likely outcome of the fate of his fellow hobbits.

Once the lock had finally given in to Bilbo’s skilled fingers, the brothers hugged then embraced Bilbo too, before the hobbit squirmed out from between them.

‘Wait here. I have something to do inside first.’

In he went and it wasn’t long before he came back with a full pack the brothers had not seen before strapped on his back.

‘Let’s go.’

And the three of them took off in the opposite direction Thranduil had taken, leaving the sweet cottage behind.

Bilbo whistled some odd tune and not a minute later, a thrush landed on his shoulder, letting Bilbo whisper something to it then taking flight again.

‘That was Disa, a friend of mine. She will find Gandalf the Grey and tell him of my findings. He will take care of Thranduil. We do not have to fear of him feeding off of anyone else again.’

His tone was matter of fact but there was a certain satisfaction in his eyes as he said that and the dwarflings couldn’t help agree with him.

‘You hail from Ered Luin, don’t you? It is the only settlement of dwarrows that I know of nearby.’

‘Indeed we do, Master Bilbo.’

‘Good. I’ll take you back there, your kin is bound to be worried. It shouldn’t take us more than a day.’

 

The trio walked on, only stopping to eat what Bilbo had taken from Thranduil and to rest when night finally fell.

On the way, the brothers took upon themselves to learn more about the hobbit, strange as he was.

They were astonished to learn the fellow had just turned thirty-four. Outraged on his behalf that his kin had let him go looking for trouble, only for Bilbo to huff at them and letting them know that he’d been of age for a year already, thank you very much. And that from what he had seen, dwarrows have a longer lifespan, and thus though he had lived less years than them, he was still technically the older one.

They also learned that Bilbo had been orphaned during the Fell Winter, five years before and had been fencing for his own ever since as no family had taken him in. Which he said had suited him just fine as he had never gotten along with his relatives, as he had always been too Tookish, even for his more wilder Took cousins.

But Bag End, his house, was home and so, even though he didn’t really have a place in the Shire, he always returned because it was his home and he had nowhere else to go.

For his part, Bilbo learned of the boys’ father dying in battle when Kili was just a babe, Fili not much older as they had, astonishingly, only five years between them. And that they lived with their mother and uncle and had a large family, however times removed which was present as well.

They told him about their best pranks, that had Bilbo laughing so hard he had to stop walking to regain his breath and that though they tried to make their uncle proud, nothing seemed to please him.

 

Finally, as Bilbo had predicted, after a day of walking, they arrived at the edge of the forest and Ered Luin was in sight.

Bilbo took off his pack and passed it to Fili.

‘Here. It’ll help you, it’s some of Thranduil’s treasure. You go back to your family and give it your uncle. I’m sure they will be relieved to see you back safe. Though you might get shouted at for running out halfcocked in the first place. Stay safe.’

He was stopped by to pair of strong arms holding him in place.

‘You can’t go now Bilbo!’

‘No, you have to come with us! Meet Uncle and Mam.’

‘Tell them how you got us out of there.’

‘So they can meet our saviour and thank you properly, the dwarven way.’

‘And you could see Nori again!’

‘Yes! He’s back in town for some time and he’s family, so we know him well.’

Flustered, Bilbo let himself be dragged back into the mountain, only for the three of them to be interrupted with a bellow.

‘You confounded dwarflings! Where have you been?! Wait until I bring you to your uncle!’

Though the words and tone were less than friendly, the bear of a man, sporting a mohawk, tattoos and deadly looking knuckle dusters, looked relieved as he embraced the two dwarflings.

Putting them back down, he finally caught sight of Bilbo, shuffling awkwardly on the side.

‘Who’s this then? D’ye pick up a stray again?’

Bilbo squeaked indignantly and glared up at the man, only to be laughed at and have his hair ruffled by the man.

‘He’s our saviour Mister Dwalin!’ The boys exclaimed at the same time.

‘Really now?’ Looking at Bilbo with a new eye.

The sceptical inquiry was the only excuse the boys needed to tell their tale, as the three of them were herded off by Mister Dwalin back to their home.

 

Dwalin was suitably impressed by the hobbit, and though they had to tell the tale at least twice more to the rest of their family and endure an ear boxing lecture from their uncle, it was all worth the look on their uncle’s face when he saw the hobbit and the treasure he had brought back for them.

Bilbo’s face as Thorin embraced him in thanks for saving his nephews and giving them those riches was also particularly worth it, seeing for the first time the hobbit blush bright red and stammer some excuse or another that it 'was nothing, really'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay! I was going to post it yesterday after finishing writing it, but yesterday was not conducive to writing at all. Then when I felt inspiration come, my mum called and we talked for three hours on Hangouts and then I got distracted watching Sherlock (don't blame me!).  
> So here you have yesterday's chapter. Hope you like it. It might or might not continue this one.  
> Detective/Police is next and you should, if all goes according to plan, have it this evening.


	9. Detectives (Bilbo/Bifur - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo Baggins is a private detective that has gotten quite the reputation. His life is about to get turned upside down when Bifur Geirsson comes to his country office to ask help finding his two cousins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Detectives prompt.  
> Bilbo is not a morning person. Bifur is Russian but can still speak English. Bilbo does NOT go on with anything that is technically a machine.  
> Otherwise no other warnings I can think of.

It was barely seven in the morning when Bilbo Baggins, private eye, got the phone call that would change his life. Way too early if you asked him, fate could have had at least waited for a decent hours for that kind of things, but no one asked for his input did they?

Bleary eyed and fuzzy minded, Bilbo clumsily answered his incessantly ringing phone.

'This better be important. No one messes with my sleep, I'll have you know.'

To his consternation, all his grumbles got him was a snort of amusement.

'Well really. How rude. I could always hang up right now and catch up on some more sleep you know.'

The voice that answered him was still amused but was tinted with a heavy Russian accent.

'Are you indeed Bilbo Baggins?'

 _Just my luck,_ Bilbo thought. _Not even morning in my book and my Achilles heel is on the phone. Let's just hope I don't humiliate myself too much..._

'Hm. Yup. That’s me.’

Another snort was all he got for his troubles.

‘Would you be free for an appointment at your office this morning?’

Ah, client. Well at least that more or less explained the earliness of the call.

‘Depends. What time are we talking about?’

‘When can you be there without falling asleep again?’

Bilbo groaned and didn’t try to hide it, gaining a chuckle from the other side of the line.

Giving a look to his alarm clock, Bilbo did a quick mental count.

‘I s’pose I could be there in an hour.’

‘Perfect. I will be waiting for you Mister Baggins.’

Bilbo didn’t have the time to say anything else before he heard the tone go flat.

_Well damn. He didn’t even give me his name..._

 

Bilbo was running up the stairs to his office, late. Of course he was late.

He’d nodded off after hanging up and had woken up with a jump, only to realise it was half an hour later already. He’d jumped in yesterday’s clothes without bothering with a much needed shower, grabbed his messenger bag with his laptop and other necessities and had just about ran out his door without locking it to catch the next bus to the town centre.

He’d gotten down one stop early to go to his favourite tea shop, _Chez Dori_ , and grab a tea and some pastries to go. He’d taken more than he actually needed for breakfast, but thought it’d be a nice apologetic move.

Slightly out of breath when he got to his level, he immediately spotted the man patiently waiting for him in front of his office door. He’d forgotten that his nephew wouldn’t be there yet as they usually didn’t start until ten and that there wouldn’t be anyone to let the man get in and wait in one of the comfortable armchairs that were there for just some such occasion. He was always late after all.

_My... But that is a sight for sore eyes..._

The man was striking, in a ruggedly kind of way. Wild black hair framed his face with white streaks going through. As Bilbo came closer, he could also see the impressive scare on the man’s forehead, but instead of being distracting it just gave the man more character.

When Bilbo finally got close enough, he smiled up at the man (a head taller than he was) and extended his hand in greeting. ‘Hullo. I’m Bilbo Baggins.’

 

Bifur had arrived early. He had booked a hotel near and he’d prefered to go wait at Master Baggins’ office instead of pacing in his room like a lion in cage.

He’d huffed in amusement when he realised the time of appointment had gone and went, not really surprised by the turn on event. The man hadn’t seemed like the punctual type nor of being an early riser.

He didn’t have to wait much longer before hearing someone running up the stairs. What he assumed was Mister Baggins came through the staircase door, out of breath and slightly red from the effort.

Bifur didn’t try to hide his smirk and snort. The man was utterly disheveled, clearly having fallen out of bed (probably literally), and hanging onto a to go cup of coffee as if it was a lifeline.

Letting his gaze appraise the approaching man, Bifur couldn’t help being pleased. He was as cute as his sleepy grumbling had sounded.

An unruly mop of blond curls on his head, bright green eyes, small in stature and seemingly soft. The man did not look the part of a private detective. Bifur had no pain in imagining him as a university lecturer or professor or even a librarian. He’d never had imagined the man being in the profession he was in if he’d met him in the streets.

But Bilbo Baggins had come highly recommended by several people, so he did not let the soft and gentle appearance of the younger man fool him.

He grabbed the other man’s hand when it was offered and shook it.

‘Bifur Geirsson, at your service.’

 

_Well it was nice to have a name to put on the man. And what a pleasant handshake he has too..._

Bilbo shook himself before letting go and turning to open the door, before remembering his keys were in his bag.

Blushing, he handed his coffee and pastry bag to Mr Geirsson.

‘Would you mind holding this for me a second, Mr Geirsson? I need to get my keys to let us in.’

The other man did as he was asked silently and observed Bilbo rummage through his bag, huffing and frowning at his bag as if it’d personally offended him.

Bifur couldn’t help but be amused, especially when the other man let out a bright ‘Ah, ha!’ of victory and brandished his jingling keys with triumph and opened the door before taking back his fare and inviting Bifur in.

Bilbo waved vaguely at the armchairs.

‘Please, have a seat Mr Geirsson.’

‘Bifur.’

‘Hm?’

‘Please, call me Bifur.’

‘Of course. But then I insist you call me Bilbo.’

Bilbo offered a small smile at the other man then remembered the pastries.

‘Oh! Would you like a danish bun? I found Dori makes the best and I thought it would be a good way to apologies for my tardiness. I would have gotten you a cup too, but I didn’t know if you were more of a tea, coffee or chocolate man, so I didn’t. I’d offer you one of either, as my nephew bought me a machine that does all three, but last time I tried to use it I managed to make it explode. I don’t do well with electronic things... But if you think you can use it, please feel free to make yourself something to drink.’

Thankfully, Bilbo managed to stop himself from continuing babbling on like a bumbling buffoon. Bifur only snorted again and stood to said machine.

Bifur had to stop himself from laughing out loud when he realised the machine in question as one of those where you only had to make sure there was a full tank of water, place the capsule of beverage of choice in, put the cup under the nozzle then press the button and wait. How Bilbo had even managed to make it _explode_ was a mystery. In less than five minute he had his coffee in hand and turned back to sit in his chosen armchair.

Only to find Bilbo glaring at the coffee maker as if it had personally betrayed him.

‘I see you’re one of those that know their way around robots.’

Bifur smiled behind his cup as the smaller man huffed then sat down in front of him, drinking from his to go cup and taking one of the pastries he had arranged on a plate on the little table between them.

Bifur helped himself with one, and silently agreed that they were good.

‘So what can I do for you Bifur?’

‘My two younger cousins have disappeared. The police don’t seem to know a damn thing. I was their guardian when they were younger and we are still very close to each other. They wouldn’t have gone anywhere without telling me. I’ve been looking to hire a private detective and you came highly recommended by several people.’

 

Bilbo will admit freely that, though missing people weren’t his speciality, had he known beforehand how his life would be completely turned around and chaos strewed left, right and center he’d still have taken the case. And it had more to do with the electric grey eyes of the man asking than the extravagant sum of money he’d offer for it.

_I’m weak like that... So sue me._

  
**To be continued...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here have the chapter I said I'd post yesterday. Ah well.  
> But! I did read through all previous chapters and correct any mistakes I came about. So there. That was one good thing done, no?  
> Hope you like this chapter and AU.  
> I will definitely continue this (as the 'to be continued' suggests).   
> Bilbo is just too cute.   
> It seems a bit fluffy right now. But as Bofur and Bombur's disappearance involved one very angry Smaug, there will be violence later on. Yay! My cute little Bilbo will suffer... *rubs hands sadistically*


	10. Time Travel (Fili/Bilbo/Kili - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With each choice they make, Hobbits create incarnation of themselves to take the choice that is left, thus creating endless alternative realities. After the BOFA, Bilbo suffers what is called an Immersion with one of his old incarnation. Everything is going to change from there on out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time travel prompt!  
> No warnings that I can think of, though I suppose that in a way, there is a Major Character Death... Maybe? Depends the point of view...  
> Future Fili/Bilbo/Kili though it's not really mentioned at the moment.

Bilbo had always been aware, as most hobbits were, that for each choice he made, another Bilbo created in an alternate reality where the other Bilbo took the choice original Bilbo hadn’t taken. Sometimes, the choice wasn’t that important, and thus the consequences of that choice not different from one another in the long run. So it often happened that two incarnations of Bilbo (or any hobbit) found themselves again and became one again as their paths were once again on the same wavelength.

 

When Bilbo was still a tween, during the Fell Winter, as he was trying to gather wood before nightfall, he came across an artefact of some kind. He was faced with two choice it. Take it or leave it. Bilbo did the Baggins thing to do and ignored it, wanting to get back home as quickly as possible, with a bit of chance without his parents noticing he’d been gone at all. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his other incarnation follow his Took instincts and pick up the object before simmering out of existance, choice made.

When Bilbo came home, it was to have his ears boxed by his mother. He’d been a fool to think he could get one up on Belladonna Took.

The events that followed; the wolves and the orcs crossing over the Brandywine river, made him quickly forget everything about ever finding an magical object and leaving it there.

 

It was after what came to be called the Battle of Five Armies that Bilbo thought again about the first choice he had made that had been an Altering Choice.

He’d given his ring to Gandalf after a heated discussion and discovering what damage it could do and had already done, and the wizard had gone on to ask a favour of the Eagles. Bilbo tried not to think about it too much, as he still felt the influence of the ring and possessiveness towards it and it made him want to run after Gandalf and hurt the wizard for ever taking something that wasn’t his but Bilbo’s. _Mine... My prec-_ Bilbo shook himself and tried to think of something else.

He’d been sitting in the royal healing tent for a week now. Barely leaving, wanting to stay and look after the the three Durin’s.

Thorin, Fili and Kili had been gravely injured during the battle, but thanks to quick actions and the debt Thranduil owed to Bilbo for saving his life, they had been able to get back to health, though they had yet to wake up.

He just hoped that like the rest of the Company, these three dwarrows would have forgiven him when they woke up. He didn’t fancy running for his life, again, when realising he’d still be banished. Nor did he really want to go back to the Shire and Bag End. With these three dwarrows and his friends all alive, there was something holding him in Erebor that he had never felt for the Shire since his parent’s death.

Bilbo was restless that day. He’d been feeling odd since waking up. Itchy. Like his skin wasn’t big enough for all of him. The feeling only increasing as the day went on. It was noon when Bilbo finally understood what it was he was feeling.

One of his incarnation was going to cross his path again and the would be one again.

Of sorts.

From his symptoms, the incarnation was one that had been made a long time ago, but that was now much different than he was. So much so that Bilbo had the feeling of dread that the Immersion wouldn’t be painless nor seamless as it usually was.

And that meant that this incarnation came from an Altering Change. But Bilbo didn’t understand. He had always been told that those incarnation never crossed their originals path again, so important and fate altering was it.

The only incarnation he could think of that would match was the one from the Fell Winter, or at least the only one during that time that hadn’t Immersed itself back nearly immediately after making the choice.

_The artefact..._

That was the only explanation. But that also meant that it had been some kind of time device. For Bilbo was quite sure that the incarnation coming to him was the exact same one that had left him that day all those years ago, and not one that matched his years of now.

_What to do, what to do? Where was that confounded wizard when he was needed?!_

 

Bilbo had been pacing between the beds holding the brothers and their uncle for at least an hour, thinking about what could hypothetically happen and feeling less and less well, when Balin entered the tent with a bowl of stew and tut at the state Bilbo was in.

‘You have to look after yourself Master Baggins. What will the King and Princes say when they see you’ve been running yourself ragged, hm?’

Bilbo immediately plopped down in the nearest chair, like a puppet which had its strings cut.

Balin went rushing to his side, anxious. He’d never seen Bilbo act that way, even with his fainting spell back on their first night at Bag End.

‘Bilbo my lad? Are you alright? Should I call for Oin?’

‘N-no Master Balin. Hobbit thing. Nothing to do. Only wait and hope it isn’t too bad.’

‘Lad what in Mahal’s name are you talking about.’

Bilbo let out a pained groan. It was going to happen soon. Best try and explain what he could to Balin. And it was luck that it was Balin, he was the one that was the most likely to think rationally through this.

‘Hobbits. We have... We have incarnations, of sorts. When we make a choice. An incarnation of us is created that takes what choice me did not choose.’

Bilbo closed his eyes and grasped his head in pain. Feeling Balin put his big and calloused hand on his forehead and gently shush him.

‘For example. When I... I saved Thorin, another me was created that decided to stay where I’d been instead, only to continue it’s time in the alternate reality created.’

 _The hobbit is talking nonsense_ , was what thought Balin. Bilbo was burning up, so surely it must be the fever talking.

‘Sometimes, we cross path with our past incarnation and become one again.’

Bilbo let out a croak and would have fell off his chair had it not been for Balin holding him down.

‘Lad, let me fetch Oin, you’re not well.’

‘NO! No please... Don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to be alone when this happens. I... I’ve been through numerous Immersion, but never with an incarnation so different. It’s going to hurt Balin. And I won’t be the same.’

‘Bilbo...’

‘No. Let me finish. Please. I don’t know how I’ll change. I never heard of a case like this. I might keep the memories of this life, or I might not. I even might change physically. I don’t know Balin.’

When Bilbo looked up at Balin, it was to see his friend sporting a concerned frown on his face.

‘I’m scarred Balin...’

Balin sighed and did the only thing he could think of; he took Bilbo in his arms.

‘It’s going to be okay laddie. You’ll see. It’s just the fever speaking.’

They stayed that way for some time, Bilbo letting out the occasional pained noise.

Balin let go of Bilbo then went to retrieve the stew he’d left on the table near the princes’ bed. The lad needed the food.

He was turning around when he saw behind Bilbo something shimmer into existence. Balin had a hand on his sword before he was struck speechless as he saw the shimmer form what was obviously a much younger Bilbo Baggins, before the incarnation as Bilbo had put it, walked straight into his Bilbo and the hobbit let out a bloodcurdling cry and doubled over.

Balin watched powerless as Bilbo moaned and writhed on the ground.

Finally, Bilbo stopped twitching and let out a shuddering breath. Balin didn’t dare approach as their hobbit struggled to stand up, not looking up and dusting his clothes ( _too big, too large_ ).

The Bilbo looked up and Balin was left gaping. _So it was not just fevered talk..._

In front of him was the corporal version of the younger Bilbo he had seen shimmer to life a moment ago. The hobbit couldn’t be more than a boy, probably not yet even of age by hobbit standards if looks were any indication.

Smaller than the Bilbo they had known, with eyes more bright and longer hair, much more unruly. He looked like innocence.

‘Bilbo lad?’

The boy startled and stopped looking around him and frowning at his clothes to look directly at Balin.

His jaw slackened then tried to work around words without great success.

‘Oh...! I...’

Bilbo cleared his throat and straightened his back, lifting his chin defiantly.

‘I’m sorry, but do I know you Master Dwarf?’

 _Oh dear,_ thought Balin _. This was going to be interesting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I tag this with 'Major Character Death' you think?  
> Hope you like this one. I didn't want to write it self. I started three times before this version came out and didn't want to stop.  
> It will be continued.  
> Pairing is for Syxx. XD Though truth be told it was about the only pairing that was working well with my idea so it wasn't hard to make the decision. ;)  
> This WILL be continued. Later.
> 
> Also, I have a blog. You can find me here: http://becoming-seth.tumblr.com   
> I speak of me but also of what I'm writing, if you're interested.   
> And you can leave prompts for me there if you want to! ;)


	11. Harry Potter (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo has just obtained his Mastery and doesn't know what to do of his life when he receives an owl from an old friend, Gandalf Legris offering him an option. It is bound to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry Potter prompt.  
> No warnings whatsoever.

Bilbo Baggins had just finished his apprenticeship to become a Master of both Herbology and Charms and he could not help but let out a sigh of relief for finally, _finally_ , being done with it.

The last five years after his graduation from Hogwarts had been hectic to say the least. And he was lucky he’d managed his double apprenticeship with a year to spear.

The question was now what to do with his Mastery.

Though he'd had exceptional grades, both at Hogwarts and for his final Mastery projects, his special brand of specialisation wasn't especially sought after.

He'd have started working in his dad's magical landscaping business, but his parents had both died in the war and though he had had enough money to pay his apprenticeship, which thankfully had been live-in, the rest of it had been appropriated by his greedy relatives as he hadn't been of age yet. And his father's business had been closed and employees dismissed, even nice and competent Hamfast.

Which was why he found himself with no idea what to do now.

During his last year of apprenticeship he had thankfully been paid for some of the work he'd done and with his good grades of his projects had earned a nice little sum of money as a prize.

With it, he'd managed to find a flat to let, though it was in one of the more seedier part of magical London and wouldn’t last for long if he didn’t find employment quickly.

 

He'd lost contact with most of his friends after Hogwarts, not having any time for himself as he'd been practically a slave the last five years.

That was why he was particularly surprised to see an owl flying through the window and deposit a letter for him. The only post he'd received since he left Hogwarts had been the Quibbler and howlers from Lobelia.

Opening the seal he did not recognise, Bilbo started reading:

 

_My dear Bilbo,_

_It has come to my attention, by means of which shall remain nameless, that you have completed your apprenticeship but are in a pickle about what to do now._

_First I shall say that I am proud of you indeed for your grades. Then I shall admit of having just the thing for you._

_I want you to go on an adventure!_

_I shan't say more now, but I expect you at my home this afternoon for tea. I have included a portkey that will lead you here promptly at four._

_With my most sincere affections,_

_Gandalf Legris_

_Master of Defence Against the Dark Arts_

_Order of Merlin First class_

 

Gandalf?! Well this could be...  _interesting._  To say the least.

He hadn't seen the man since his parents' funeral but he'd been a somewhat permanent fixture in his life since childhood even if he went and gone as he pleased.

Still of the man thought he could help, Bilbo wasn't in a place where he could actually refuse.

He just hoped it wouldn't be like the time Gandalf had roped his mum into going with him running after trolls and elves...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am soooo sorry for the delay. RL is a hectic right now.   
> And I'm sorry this is so short, but it did NOT want to be written.   
> Still, I hope you will enjoy this tiny chapter.  
> It might be continued (as I really want to write the dwarrows in this) but for the moment it's at the bottom of the list of all the AUs I want to continue from this challenge.
> 
> Thank you again to you all for your nice comments, kudos, subscriptions and bookmarks.


	12. Runaway/Homeless (Gen. - Mature)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After running away from home when he is orphaned at fifteen Bilbo gets in some pretty deep shit. Until he meets the kind and older Bifur and his younger cousin Bofur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Runaway and homeless prompt.  
> Mention of sex workers, homelessness, traumatic event, child living in the streets, ...

Bilbo’s parents die in a fire accident when he is fourteen. His dad got him out of the house in time, but died when he went back inside to get his mum. He can still hear the scream, still feel the heat and taste the smoke. He rarely sleeps anymore, too afraid to wake up to an inferno again.

He stays with his mother’s family until the funeral. He hasn’t spoken since the accident, and his relatives are awkward around him, not knowing what to say or do.

But his mother’s family is a large one, with a lot of children of their own and they do not have the time nor the energy for a teenager that doesn’t speak and has night terrors.

In the end, he is carted off to one of his aunt and uncles of his father’s side. He doesn’t like it there.

He heard aunt Lobelia and uncle Otho speak. The only thing they want is the inheritance.

Still, they send him to school, feed him and gave him a room. But there is no affection, no physical contact except for those times when either of them lose their tempers with him and hit him. When they don’t, he is simply punished by being locked in his room or deprived of meals.

When he is not a school or in his room, aunt Lobelia makes sure his time is used wisely in doing most housework that needs to be done.

It is one year, day for day, after his parents died that he runs away with only the clothes he has on his back.

 

Though the Shire, his homeland, is somewhat isolated, Bilbo manages to get to Erebor. When he gets there, he is hungry, dirty, hurt and sleep deprived.

The walk from the Shire to Erebor had been long and hazardous. He’d had to learn to be discreet when searching through bins and to just eat what he found and not be picky. Even if it made him sick. And when night comes, he is too afraid to sleep, even if he does end nodding off from time to time, too exhausted to do anything about it. He’s an easy target for those bigger and older than him, and he has to be careful that he isn’t tramping all over someone else’s territory when looking for food or a place to rest. He is quick and light on his feet, and luck has been on his side, so he manages to escape before he is too bet up to do anything. Still, when, later, he finds a blunt knife in a bin he looks through, he doesn’t hesitate to pocket it. He doesn’t like violence but he’ll use it if he has to. Better safe than sorry, he’s learned.

 

Erebor is large and dark and does not smell of anything except of pollution. He misses the green rolling hills of the Shire, but he doesn’t miss the people.

He wanders aimlessly through the city and manages to get some coin from begging. And after counting his loot, the first thing he does is go to a bakery and buy himself a pastry. He manages to find a secluded alley where he sits against the dirty ground and savours it, moaning as he does so. He hasn’t tasted something so delicious in longer than he cares to.

At night, he discovers that Erebor is more dangerous than he’d experience on the way there. He also stumbles in a darker shade of what people in need would do to be able to have a roof atop their heads and food in their bellies. He can nearly feel his innocence leaving him when some of the ‘customers’ leer at him and he hears the catcalls they send his way.

 

He’s been in Erebor for a month when Mr. Smaug founds him. And though he has managed to find places to clean up and he has managed to get some money from begging in the streets, it is still not enough and he is always afraid that someone will take him away and send him back to the Shire. Some others that are homeless too or that walk the streets take pity on him and sometimes help, but he has learned that in the streets it is every man for himself.

When Mr. Smaug makes his offer, he is so desperate that he can’t help but feel grateful to the man, even though deep down he realises that he is just digging himself a deeper hole.

 

Adrian Smaug was intrigued. Erebor belonged to him, officiously at least. He knew of everything that happened and of everyone that entered his domain. But it was only now that he heard about the ‘angel’ that had come in town a month ago. A boy, no more than fifteen, probably younger. A runaway with a bright green eyes and a mop of unruly blond curls that, even under all that grim attracted the eye. How the boy had managed to evade him that long was a mystery and Smaug was immediately curious. He sent Azog, his right hand man, after the boy, with the strict order to stay discreet and not approach him. He just wanted to know the comings and goings of the child as well as the order to take pictures so he could see for himself the face of the angel.

It did not take long for Azog to come back victorious.

And oh, but the boy was a sight for sore eyes indeed. He contemplated the pictures, listening to Azog give his report. The boy was light on his feet, he says. Quick and agile. With an ease to disappear when he doesn’t want to be seen or he needs to go to safety because he’s been targeted by one of the local gangs. Never sleeps twice in the same place, but during the day he has no such qualms; having several places where he is well known and where he can sometimes have a freebee.

Smaug’s curiosity is peaked indeed and he decides to see the boy for himself. The boy will be his, whether he wants to or not. What enters his town is his by default but some he wants to see to _personally_.

He finds the boy in an alley, hunched protectively over a pastry as he eats it. Smaug can’t help the delighted chuckle that escaped him, the pictures did not render him justice.

The boy’s head snapped up at the sound and his eyes went large with fear.

‘I’m not here to hurt you boy. I’m here to get to know you.’

‘Know me, sir?’

Smaug hummed as he got closer to the boy. Once in front of him, he extended his hand and waited for the boy to grab it.

The boy looked at it biting his lip then put the pastry back in its bag and wiped his hand on his trousers before taking the offered hand.

How precious. Once the small hand, especially compared to his, was in his grasp, he tugged and had the boy stand up. The boy tripped over his own feet and landed heavily against Smaug’s front.

‘Oh! I’m sorry sir!’

Smaug waved him off. The suit was going to the dry cleaner anyway.

‘Now. I’ll have you name boy.’

‘Um. I’m Bilbo, sir. Bilbo Baggins.’

‘Welcome to my town Bilbo Baggins. I am Adrian Smaug.’

‘Nice to meet you Mr. Smaug.’

‘Indeed.’

Bilbo couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable by the way Mr. Smaug look at him up and down, accessing. He must have seen something that pleased him, because a smiled appeared on his face.

‘What would you say to nice hot bath, a proper meal and a comfortable bed to pass the night?’

‘I... Really?’

‘Yes. You intrigue me, Bilbo Baggins, and  a child like you shouldn’t not be on the streets like this. And as this is my town, it is my role to look after what I deem mine.’

Bilbo gulped and bit his lip again. He didn’t like the sound of that. No, not one bit. But a bath! And a bed and food! He did not have the heart to refuse. Even if it was only one evening and night of reprieve before he was sent back to this life, it was heaven at his fingertips.

‘Thank... Thank you sir! I... Yes, please.’

The boy - Bilbo, looked up at him with such innocent reverence and hunger that Smaug couldn’t help but smirk.

_And the fly in caught..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There! Getting closer to being up to date again.   
> Hope you like this one.  
> It's going to get darker before it gets better. I will continue this one. Poor Bilbo is in for a lot of shite I'm afraid.


	13. WWII (Bilbo/Bifur - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is a nurse in a military hospital in France when Bifur, a jewish english soldier is admitted with a head wound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WWII prompt.  
> Nurse!Bilbo, comatose patients, mention of war and head injury.

It was the 6th of June 1944 when the Allies invaded the coast of Normandy in what was called Operation Neptune. For two months, Allies and Axis powers fought for who would be the victors. There were thirteen thousand casualties estimated. Amongst them, Major Bifur Broadbeam of the 45 Commandos, which landed in Ouistreham. After being stabilised by the field medics, Major Broadbeam was sent by ambulance to the British General Hospital of Bayeux.

 

Bilbo Baggins had volunteered as one of the rare civilian male nurses of the British Army nearly from the beginning of the war, much to his parents’ chagrin. It hadn’t been long before he’s been sent to France to operate with the British General Hospital only for it to settle in Bayeux not long after the start of Normandy landings.

Bilbo had been looking after the comatose patients when a new patient was rolled in and transferred in one of the free beds, the doctors didn’t say a word and left him to do his job assuming, quite correctly, that he would read the chart and that he’d be at the meeting with the doctors discussing all new arrivals.

After finishing his round, Bilbo quietly made it to the new occupant of this wing of the hospital. He had to sit down in the chair next to the bed as he read.

Bullet to the brain. No exit wound. Bullet trajectory not advancing. Coma. Brain responds to some outside stimuli. Stable. Recovery time and state unknown. Possible extend brain damage. No family contact before remarkable change in state of patient.

Bilbo sighed. The only thing he could do was make Major Broadbeam as comfortable as possible.

 

Over the course of several weeks, Bilbo looked after the Major. Giving him sponge baths, moving him every few hours, changing the intravenous fluids, … And as always, Bilbo talked to him too. There was so little known about coma and Bilbo had always thought that talking to the patient could not hurt, on the contrary he was of a mind that it kept them grounded with a more likely chance to wake up. And through it all, for no reason that Bilbo could explain, he became more and more attached to the comatose Major.

Though the scar left by the bullet was terrible, the Major was quite the handsome man and his comatose state did not make the man seem diminutive.

His hair was short, it had been partially shaved at the time he’d had his initial treatment, black as jet and streaked with white. And Bilbo knew, even though the Major’s eyes were closed unless the doctors examined him, that his eyes were of a startling grey colour.

The Major was also tall, much taller than Bilbo himself (though that really wasn’t a hard task as he barely reached five feet three), though the weeks in coma had made him lose muscle and fat alike, even with the exercises the nurse and doctors applied to his limbs.

All in all, had the Major been awake, he would have been striking, if intimidating.

 

It was two months into the Major’s stay at Bayeux, that Bilbo was talking to the man during his afternoon break when the hand he was holding squeezed his back.

Bilbo couldn’t help but let out a happy laugh at the first sign of recovery from the Major before whispering excitedly and encouragingly to him then running to fetch the doctor in charge.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter again... Sorry.   
> It's not that it didn't want to write itself, but the WWII and medical research was starting to annoy the hell out of me.   
> So here, have a cliffhanger, special for Little_R! ;)  
> Yes, this will be continued. I like Bifur/Bilbo too much not too.   
> Next are Pirates! And if you're lucky you'll have it later in the evening (hopefully before midnight, leaves me five hours to write it, should be enough).
> 
> Also, I'm pointing to my (new) blog again http://becoming-seth.tumble.com And I'm adding that, though I know tumblr can be annoying when you don't have one yourself (as you really have to have one to be able to interact fully on a tumblr blog) I've put disqus comments on each post which means you don't need to have a tumblr to talk to me. Yay! (I'm the first to admit that tumblr is shit on the level, but I didn't want wordpress so there)  
> Feel free to drop by me dear readers. :)


	14. Pirates (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin Oakenshield and his merry band of pirates have a run in with a rival ship known as the Smaug, led by the bloodthirsty Captain Azog, known for not taking any prisoners. It is a surprise for the company when after defeating them, they find an emancipated Bilbo Baggins in the brig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pirates prompt! Yay!  
> Mention of implied torture!

Thorin Oakenshield, captain of the renown and quickest vessel in the Caribbean, the Erebor, led his team of privateers. Their numbers was just thirteen but they were some of the best and they had always been victorious.

Gandalf Legris, their entrepreneur, had got then a lettre de marque and reprisal, in which the White Council authorized them to attack and capture any ships of the Gundabad nation.

Their last mission had left them in high spirits and they had spent a nice time on land, but now the crew was getting restless and it was time to set out again.

 

The Erebor had only set sail from Port-au-Prince a few weeks before when they encountered a Gundabad pirate ship, the Smaug.

Led by the bloodthirsty Captain Azog, with whom their captain had a dark history, the Smaug was known to leave their preys in ruins and to take no prisoners. All that was left to tell the tales were ships wrecked at sea, with no survivors and a flag in the Smaug’s colours as if leaving a calling card.

The whole crew was the most violent and rabid of this sea and many an official vessel had tried to sink it and get them hanged, with no success.

Captain Thorin and Master-at-arms Dwalin were both in agreement that they had been lucky in the battle that followed.

 

The Erebor was the first to fire the cannons, her speed an undeniable advantage on the slower and cumbersome Smaug. And it was on a heavily damaged Smaug that the Erebor’s crew boarded.

It is only once on board that Thorin’s crew lets themselves sigh of relief. Azog’s men are only a quarter of their usual number and seem to be less coordinated as a result. Though they are still outnumbered it is not a suicide mission anymore.

The fight took longer than they would have prefered and no prisoners were made.

Thorin took Azog’s left arm and left him for dead, as most of the crew. It is only later, as they are inspecting the Smaug that they realise the rowboat is missing as well as several crew members and the corpse of their captain.

Thorin’s crew is worse for wear but all are whole and none is grievously wounded. It is another victory for them and Thorin can’t help but smile at his crew’s triumphant cry. It is a good day indeed.

 

They are transferring all possessions they can find onto the Erebor and leaving gunpowder trails leading to the deck so they can sink the ship, as per the Council’s request when Ori came running came back running to deck as if he’d been chased by hounds of hell.

His eldest brother intercepted him first and was whispering to him, trying to calm the boy down, when Thorin came up to him.

‘What is it Ori?’

‘In the brig... There... There’s someone in the brig. But I. I don’t know if they’re alive sir!’

‘Ori... It’s not the first time you see dead prisoners.’

‘No sir. But you didn’t see the state of it! I can’t imagine what they did to him before he died, and you know I have quite the imagination.’

The last was whispered and Thorin frowned as he heard it, for he did know. The boy often entertained all of them with the stories he spun as the others asked him and some of them were quite graphic in the torture department, even when they themselves didn’t practice it on their prisoners. To have the boy spooked and at a loss about it but in perspective Azog’s epitaph, the Defiler.

Taking Dwalin and their doctor Oin, Thorin went to investigate, wanting to get to the bottom of the matter.

 

Dwalin was the one to break the lock holding the cell closed. Thorin and he both stayed at the entrance of the cell, letting Oin inspect the body.

The smell was horrible, and from the looks of it, the prisoner had lived in his filth without the cell, or himself, ever being cleaned except perhaps from a bucket of dirty water.

Thorin saw the man shake his head then swear and mutter under his breath.

‘Can’t be more than a boy. The damage they did...’

Oin was bend over the body, probing at the wounds when he let out a startled shout.

‘Mahal! Thorin! Thorin, the boy’s alive!’

It didn’t take long for both other men to move forward and kneel at Oin’s side.

‘It cannae be! How?!’

Oin huffed at Dwalin’s gruff question. _How would he know?!_ By all reasons the boy should be dead. He’d seen better men die from less extensive damage.

‘What do we do?’ was what he asked to Thorin, instead of thumping Dwalin over the head.

‘We take him on board and you look after him. I’ll be damned if I let a mere boy rot in here instead of doing what we can for him. I shall let the Valar decide of the boy’s fate, but I won’t let my crew be cursed because we didn’t help an innocent.’

Dwalin didn’t need to be prompted to gently lift the boy in his arms and get back on deck, Oin and Thorin trailing after him.

Questions were held back at the tension and urgency enveloping Dwalin and Oin as they hurried to bring the boy back to the Erebor and in its infirmary, but Thorin’s first mate sent him a look filled with worry. What Thorin’s eyes answered was clear. _All will be explained later._

‘Boys! We have a job to finish!’

 

Loaded with the Smaug’s cargaison and unwilling passenger, the Erebor sailed away from it’s conquest. Kili, their best shot, took a rifle to his shoulder when they were far enough and shot a bullet right into one of the gunpowder trails, igniting the vessel on fire. It wasn’t long before the barrels in the hold exploded.

The Smaug was blown to smithereens.

  
  
**To be continued!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There! We're up to date now. Though this chapter is technically forty minutes late, as I haven't gone to bed yet, I don't consider the day finished. So there.  
> Yes, this in high on the list of 'AUs to continue'.  
> Here is the list of the dwarrows and their rank aboard the Erebor:
> 
> Thorin - Captain  
> Balin - First Mate  
> Dwalin - Master-at-arms  
> Oin - Doctor  
> Gloin - Boatswain  
> Dori - Quartermaster  
> Nori - Third Mate  
> Ori - Seaman  
> Bifur - Gunner  
> Bofur - Carpenter  
> Bombur - Cook  
> Fili - Seaman  
> Kili - Seaman


	15. Asylum (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young orphaned and mute due to trauma Bilbo is sent to the Erebor’s Asylum by his greedy aunt and guardian Lobelia so she can have access to his inheritance. There Bilbo will slowly open up to the doctor assigned to him, Oin Groinson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asylum prompt.  
> In the sense it was used for places that treated mental illness.  
> Muteness due to trauma, severe scarring due to burns, partial loss of mobility, depression.

Bilbo Baggins hadn’t spoken since he’d been the sole survivor of a car accident that had taken the lives of both his parents. The boy had spent weeks in the hospital, at first hanging between life and death, and then slowly making his way to recovery. Though the boy would for ever bear the scars of what had happened. Most of his right side had been badly burnt and he’d limp for the rest of his life from where his left leg had been trapped in the collision.

Not many people came to see Bilbo Baggins, and those that did usually only came once, horrified by the sight of the boy thus disfigured.

When the time came that he was considered well enough and his release from hospital came near, a severe looking woman came to collect the boy, nearly dragging him out, unconcerned by the boy’s difficulty to walk with his crutch.

The hospital staff whispered, but none was said nor done.

 

Lobelia Sackville-Baggins had married in the Baggins family for it’s status, reputation and funds. When the accident happened, she’d been happy to know her husband was next in line to inherit Bungo’s estate. And though she was chagrined to see dear Bungo go, she’d been glad to have wild and rough Belladonna out of the way, she’d never liked the woman anyway.

When she learnt Bilbo, their son, lived, she’d been livid. Especially when she was certain their will would not name her husband and her as guardians to their only son.

But it wasn’t long before she realised that all close family on the Took side came back white as sheets and not wanting to take on the boy that she realised there was her chance.

Bungo’s and Belladonna’s will named a certain Gandalf Legris as guardian for Bilbo, Lobelia vaguely remembered him from a few years back, hadn’t liked him much. And was ecstatic to know that as he couldn’t be found, another solution needed to be organised.

That was where she came in and queried about her taking the boy in and what it would entail. After all she has a son of her own and it wouldn't do to not be able to feed one more mouth.

It was how she discovered that, as Bilbo was not of age, she would have a monthly allowance to see to Bilbo's need and that any other important expenses needed to be discussed at the lawyer's with Bilbo present. The only way she would have nonrestrictive access would be if Bilbo was declared unsound of mind.

She went back home to discuss about it with her husband and both decided to put that plan in action.

 

Bilbo let himself be dragged by his aunt. He knew why she was there, he’d eavesdrop her talking to her husband about it enough time to not think she was taking him out of the goodness of her heart.

Still, he said nothing. He had nothing to say. He had nothing left, all that had been important to him had been taken away in the car accident. And what was left of him was a mere shell of what he’d been before.

He’d seen the pitying stares and horrified glances of his relatives before they turned around and nearly ran away. He knew that no one loved him anymore, now that he was disfigured, mute and invalid.

He heard them all talk. He thought it funny that people tend to think you’re all a sudden deaf when you don’t speak and are incapacitated in any way. He heard, and he remembered. He didn’t want their pity, didn’t need they false sympathies. He wanted to have died with his parents instead of being alive but not living.

He had no appetite for anything, be it food or books or any such things he’d enjoyed doing _before_. His mother and father weren’t there anymore, so what did it matter?

It didn’t take long for his aunt to take him see one of the psychiatrist of the Shire and for him to declare Bilbo unsound of mind and incidentally advice Lobelia to send him to a hospital specialised in treatment of mental illness as an inpatient.

A week later, he was carted off to Erebor’s Asylum for the insane and their children’s wing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be continued, might also not. Dunno. *shrugs*  
> Hope you like this short chapter. Didn't really want to write itself, thus why it's so short.


	16. Turn of the Century (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Year's Eve 1999, Bilbo and the company are celebrating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turn of the century prompt.  
> No warnings.  
> Frerin is alive. Kids Kili, Fili and Ori. Side mention of Bofur/Nori.

Bilbo looked at himself one last time in his full length mirror. _Not so bad._

He was wearing one of his newest pair of black jeans with a dark purple button-up shirt of which he left the two first buttons undone. At his feet were a pair of New Rocks boots; a gift from his best friend Bofur for Christmas. He’d tried to do something with his hair, but as ever it ended up being even more unruly than it would have been had he left it alone.

Satisfied, Bilbo left his room. Donning his black peacoat and earth tone hand knitted scarf and gloves (those a gift from Dori), he grabbed the bag he’d prepared earlier, filled with usual overnight pack for when he stayed with the Company plus some bottles of good wine and two treacle tarts he’d made that afternoon.

Bilbo was locking his front door when he heard a very distinctive honk of a horn just up his path. Turning around, he smiled and waved at Balin that was waiting for him before hurrying to get inside the old Citroen 2CV.

‘Isn’t Dwalin with you? I thought I heard you say I’d have to find some space in the back so he could have some legroom in the front?’

‘Aye. I did say that. But he got roped into preparing everything at Thorin’s. Bofur and Nori are helping too.’

‘Oh dear...’

Balin only hummed in agreement and concentrated on the road.

The ride was as usually very nice. Though they did not especially speak, the silence was comfortable and the jazz Balin liked so much filled the inside of the car.

Balin, along with Dori and Oin, was one of the few with whom Bilbo didn’t mind riding in the car. He hadn’t liked cars very much since his parents’ accident and when he went in a car with any of the others behind the wheel, he could only grip as tight as he could and pray that they’d come out of it alive. Ever since then, he’d refused to be driven anywhere unless it was one of the three older men.  And he wasn’t even going to start talking about the madness of climbing behind Thorin or Dwalin’s bike. He’d quickly seen the error of his way. _He’ll stick with public transport, thank very much._

 

Everyone was already there when they arrived. A general shout was their greeting and Bilbo left Balin to find his brother while he went to the kitchen to join Bombur and see if he could help.

When he entered Bombur’s domain, it was to be greeted by the sight of Bombur swatting at Frerin’s hand with a wooden spoon.

‘Out Frerin! Out!’

Frerin rushed passed Bilbo with a wink and retreated back to the lounge in a rare show of common sense. _You do not try to steal food right from under Bombur’s nose and get away with it_ , was the well known saying of this family.

‘Bilbo! Come, come. Here, help me with the canapes would you?’

Bilbo took off his coat and draped it over one of the chairs around the kitchen island, took out both wine and tarts to put them on the side, then did as he was bid. He was one of the few Bombur ever allowed in the kitchen while he was cooking. Probably because he was the only other one with any decent cooking skills and that he didn’t dare to steal anything unless he had the express permission from the Chef.

 

He was cutting the various tarts, including his, into manageable portions when he heard what sounded like a herd of elephants stomping down the stairs.

‘Uncle Bilbo! Uncle Bilbo!’

Before he could do anything, he was assaulted by three pairs of little hands encircling his legs and waist.

Laughing, Bilbo disentangled himself before crouching down with a smile.

‘Good evening my boys.’

Looking back at him, were three little boys with shit eating grins and mischief in their eyes. Kili, the brunette, had just turned five and was the youngest. He was the spitting image of his mother and Uncle Thorin. Fili, his brother, was blond, taking after his father and was turning eleven in a month. At thirteen Ori was the eldest, Dori’s youngest sibling and had hair of an auburn colour.

He’d known all of them since they were born and he’d barely been more than an angry teenager.

‘Uncle, we’re going to spend the night at aunt Malin’s home!’

Malin was Balin’s and Dwalin’s younger sister, that had just come back from university a few months ago. The boys hadn’t seen her in some time, which explained their excitement.

‘I thought you would already be gone when I arrived. I am glad to be able to wish you a happy new year, boys.’

‘Bombur? Bom have you seen... There you are boys!’

Dis, Thorin’s younger sister and Kili’s and Fili’s mother came bustling through the kitchen door, hands on her hips.

‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you! We have to be on our way or we’ll all be late.’

‘But Mama! Uncle Bilbo’s here!’

The whinge came from Kili’s pouty lips, and Bilbo was quite sure he was sending his mother his best puppy dog eyes.

Dis’ gaze left the boys to land on Bilbo’s still crouching form and a soft smile came to her lips. Coming closer she let Bilbo stand up again before embracing him softly and kissing his cheek.

‘Bilbo. Good to see you darling. Do have fun tonight, though if you good try and reign in my brother, I would be grateful. He’s always intolerable when he has a hangover.’

‘I’ll try my best, but I give you no guaranties. To know how he is.’

Dis snorted and nodded. Thorin was as stubborn as a mule and they both knew it.

‘Come on boys, say bye to your uncles then we’re off.’

All three young ones swarmed Bilbo again with hugs and hasty good byes before they did the same with Bombur then rushed off to find the rest of the family, Dis following behind at a more sedate pace, shaking her head in amusement.

 

Their traditional New Years Eve gathering was in full swing, the hour nearing midnight. Food had been laid out on several tables as a buffet, music was not too loudly running in the background and all the Company was having fun, discussing in little groups or playing silly drunken games.

Bilbo himself was sitting on the floor nursing a vodka orange, looking up at Bofur, Nori and Bifur, all of whom were sitting on the sofa. Bofur and Nori where leaning against each other, clearly enamored with the other as newlywed couples tend to be, and Bifur was signing furiously at Bilbo about the hard job he’d had these last few months in preparation for the new year and the potential computer blackout.

_‘Technically, nothing should happen. At worse, it’s the date that won’t be shown properly. Really nothing to worry about. All of us in programming have been working on the problem for years.’_

‘So it’s no more than a bug, and not the complete blackout I’ve been hearing about everywhere?’

_‘Exactly! Everyone is making a fuss over it, you’d think Nostradamus had seen it...’_

Bofur let out a snort from where he rested his head on Nori’s shoulder.

‘Nostradamus indeed.’

Bifur whacked him behind the head before standing to go see Bombur that was sitting near the buffet table.

 

Frerin, their very own DJ for the night had switched of the music.

‘Okay lads! It’s time to start the countdown.’

Gathered in the middle of the living room, facing the large ceiling high windows as to be able to see the fireworks Gandalf had installed earlier, the Company all started to count.

 

‘Ten!’

‘Nine!’

‘Eight!’

‘Seven!’

‘Six!’

‘Five!’

‘Four!’

‘Three!’

‘Two!’

‘One!’

 

 **‘Happy new millenium!’** was shouted by every single one of them at the top of their lungs.

It was at the exact same time that all the lights and all electric appliance of the large country estate flickered dangerously then switched off.

There was a moment of silence before there was a simultaneous cry of **‘Bofur!’** and **‘Nori!’**.

The Company could hear both man snicker like children before there were two resounding smacks and both men could be heard groaning in pain.

When the lights finally flickered back to life, the mischief making couple were both rubbing the back of their heads with their elder cousin or brother glaring at them, arms crossed.

The sight was so amusing that the rest of the Company was quick to start laughing and continue where they’d left off, going to slap Nori and Bofur on the back for a prank well done.

Bilbo shook his head at his friends’ antics and he couldn’t help but wonder what the year 2000 had in store for them all. _The_ _Valar save them all from those two pranking together..._

  
_Happy new year indeed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a more modern approach compared to what I've seen on the other 30 days AU challenge in the Hobbit verse.  
> I hope you like it.  
> Malin as Balin's and Dwalin's little sister belongs to Moon_Rose.  
> One shot.  
> It really can stand all on it's own.  
> Though I might be persuaded to write other one-shots in this universe. Like how they all met for example. ;)


	17. Favourite Book (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor Baggins has been incarcerated in Erebor state hospital for the criminally insane, of which Dr Smaug is the director, for eight years when young FBI trainee Kili Durinson comes in to ask for help about The Defiler, sent in by head of Behavioural Sciences Thorin Oakenshield.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot of your favourite book prompt!   
> I chose 'Silence of the Lambs'...   
> The Durins are not related in this story. They have no blood relation between them and know each other as acquaintances employer/employee basis or not at all.  
> Bilbo is evil.  
> Mention of murder and intention of murder.

Doctor Bilbo Baggins had been a renowned, acclaimed and often published psychiatrist as well as an upstanding and highly valued figure in Erebor’s society.

He had been able to indulge in all of his pleasures without restraint, be it going to the opera, drinking wine of exceptional quality or cooking for ‘la creme de la creme’ of Erebor.

He had enjoyed his game of cat and mouse with the FBI as they were stumped again and again by the Rhovanion Ripper.

He’d been disappointed in having to kill Special Agent Bofur Broadbeam when he’d been discovered.

That hadn’t gone quite as planned… The man had survived, hadn’t he, though not intact, it was true. He had now a most fascinating scar on his abdomen, a _souvenir_ from when Dr. Baggins had gutted him. He himself now had a new scar from where dear Bofur had shot him.

He’d been bored to death in Erebor’s state hospital for the criminally insane ever since. Though he did so enjoy having a rise out of it’s director, Dr Smaug. The man was so easy to play, so predictable in his threats and punishment.

He’d had some fun again, when Bofur had come to ask for help again. Oh, the pleasure he had taken in leading a merry chase with the Necromancer. It’d been most satisfying. Though he’d been put out by the disfigurement of Bofur. He’d have killed the Necromancer himself for that slight had he not been beaten to it by Bofur’s cousin.

That had been five years ago and he’d been incarcerated for three years before that.

It had been so long since he’d seen the outside world, and though his memory was impeccable thanks to his memory palace it only went so far.  

He drew, he read, he wrote. He still had more published works while behind barres than Smaug ever had, the ponce. But it the food, the entertainment, his clothing and lodgings and the company did nothing for his finer sensibilities or his boredom.

But that all changed when Dori, the only one of the orderly he enjoyed talking with, announced to him that there was a certain Kili Durinson waiting to talk with him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this... And for it's extreme shortness.   
> I might continue this AU when I'm more in the mood than I have been.  
> Real life has been exhausting and all demanding these last days (thus why you're getting this chapter only now and why it's so short).  
> But, I have a long weekend (you have a British bank holiday to thank for that), so I'll try to post two chapters a day today, tomorrow and Monday to put us back on tracks.   
> The quality of this chapter is severely lacking in my opinion and isn't worth anything but I couldn't manage anything else. So I'm sorry again about this one.


	18. Elizabethan Era (Bilbo/Ori - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is May Day in the Shire, a little country village outside of London. When Bilbo Baggins woke up early, as everyone else, for the preparations and the fair, he did not expect to bump, quite literally, into Queen Elizabeth’s favoured play writer Ori Risley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elizabethan era prompt!  
> No warnings that I can think of.

The Shire was a small village a few miles out of London. It rarely saw outsiders and it had the lowest criminal records of any town or village in the outskirts of the capital. Life was merry and plentiful, everyone knew their neighbours or really anyone living in the Shire. The things important to Shire folks were good food, a good home, and merry gatherings. It peaceful and uneventful, and that was how all the inhabitant of the Shire liked it.

Well, all perhaps, except one…

 

Bilbo Baggins woke bright and early on May Day, though he did not join the others to the choice of the maypole or its decoration. No, Bilbo Baggins woke up early to beat the bounds. Walk around the bounds of all the land and properties he owned in the Shire, reaffirming his rights to the lands.

Bilbo enjoyed the early morning calm and fresh air, walking serenely the paths and nodding and smiling to any he came across. And though he always had fun at the fayre, he appreciated the meditative like state he was in when he let himself walk the boundaries of what was his and had been his parents before him.

He chuckled when he saw a bough at the door of his young cousin Primula Brandybuck. He was quite sure his cousin Drogo Baggins would come knocking with a proposal before the day’s end. He’d been waiting a long time for Primula to become of age and a bough to be hung on that particular door.

Passing in front of the local hall where the amateur theatre troupe gave representation twice a year (and where, incidentally, the village council was held every month), Bilbo wondered when he’d next be able to go to London and see what the Queen’s favourite playwright would come up with next. Bilbo had seen quite a few plays from both Risley and his rival Wymer and he thought himself as being quite partial when thinking Risley had more reasons to indeed be the Queen’s favourite than Wymer thought he did because he was of higher status than Risley ever would be.

 

The morning was well underway when he finished his walk and went to the marketplace to participate in the day long festivities.

Music and dancing were already abundant and the fayre was going strong, artisans and street performers from all over had come to celebrate May Day and the return of summer.

This year, Bilbo had decided to not participate in any of the competitions organised so he could appreciate all the other activities and games, as he did every other year. Lobelia was sure to be pleased, Bilbo had always won the prize for the best pie, leaving his cousin to glare at him from her second place and him not participating guarantied her the first place once more. It was a game of theirs, trying to outdo each other in anything. The lass even tried to steal his silverware! But then he supposes it was only fair since he himself always tried to get away with her handkerchiefs.

It was with purpose that Bilbo went to the stand that help the pies and their maker, smirking at Lobelia and winking, making her glare most ineffective when she couldn’t hold back a giggle at his antics. He made a show of savouring his piece of pie before passing on to the others, continuing to exaggerate his tasting. After all, their moke rivalry was well known throughout the Shire, much to the amusement of everyone.

He was on his way to the play field, after giving his rating to the pies, ready to cheer on a number of his young cousins competing in various children games, when he was quite unceremoniously shoved into and tumbled to the ground on his rump dirtying his best clothes.

And as he looked up, up into the eyes of the playwright he admired so, he couldn’t help but bemoan the fact of course he would meet him when he was in the most humiliating situation possible.

But the only thing Bilbo could think to say when anxious and apologetic hands helped him up and dusted him off was ‘What in the blaze is Ori Risley doing in the Shire of all places?!’.

 

Needless to say that the next few minutes were passed in an awkward and embarrassed silence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go. Second chapter of the day! Yay!  
> Hope you like it. :)  
> Next in line is futuristic...


	19. Futuristic (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is abducted by what he thinks are aliens on the advice of the only one of them that has come to Earth before, to help them get back their home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Futuristic prompt!   
> No warnings apply.

When Bilbo was but a child, his mam brought back with her from one of her travels a strange man clad in grey.

He stayed for a couple of months before disappearing never to be heard of again.   
Bilbo remembers him fondly, as an eccentric uncle that spoke in riddles, was always funny to play with and had strange manners.

He’d been seven at the time.

 

It was no wonder that the next time he saw the strange man, he had taken him some time to link the face to the memories.

Though that also might have been because of the whole affair of being abducted by aliens…

 

Bilbo had been tending to his garden in the late afternoon when it had happened. One moment he’d been kneeling in the dirt, ready to take out a particularly vicious weed when the next he was kneeling on the hard and metallic ground of what looked to be a _spaceship_!

‘What in the world?!’ was as far as he went, before his body decided that, nope, this wouldn’t do at all and darkness consumed him.

 

He was still inelegantly sprawled on the floor when he came too, angry sounding voices arguing around him.

‘Why did you make us go all this way back only to bring that with us Gandalf?!’

‘Now, now Thorin. He’s the key to help you get back Erebor.’

‘So you keep saying Wizard, but in the meantime he fainted when he was transported on board!’

‘Have you not listen to your history lessons when you were still at school?!’

That Gandalf fellow seemed to have had enough of this Thorin… Bilbo could relate. Had he been in any way capable of articulating his thought intelligently right now, he’d have a thing or two to say to him too.

‘Thorin, you know very well that from when the man comes there isn’t all the technology we have at our disposition...’

The latter came from a voice Bilbo had not heard yet. A calm and sensible voice. Bilbo liked the person the voiced belonged to already.

And of course it was at the moment that a throbbing headache made itself known, leaving no choice to Bilbo than to let out a pained groan.

‘Ah… So the burglar awakes...’

_Oh just wait until Bilbo was feeling better and not like he would vomit at any small movement. He would have words with the git!_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one again, sorry.  
> Will be continued. Sassy Bilbo on the menu. And Thorin is... Well, Thorin is his usual self I suppose.


	20. Prostitutes/Strip-Club (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is a dancer in a strip club to be able to get by. One of his customers get an unhealthy obsession with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prostitutes/Strip-Club prompt.  
> Mention of homelessness, debts, eviction, addictions, gambling, drug use, prostitution, underage prostitution, human trafficking. It's only mentioned vaguely though.

Bilbo had been barely sixteen when he’d realised his parents weren’t the perfect persons they had projected to be.

Reality had hit hard when from one day to the next they had found themselves homeless, with only the clothes they had on their backs for worldly possessions.

His father was a gambler and his mother an addict, bad investment and debts owed to people it was best to stay far away had made the experience a sock and a wake up call.

Bilbo had never considered his family well off, but he’d never realised how far above their means they were living.

And though his parents hadn’t ever been the most caring and affectionate of people, he’d never felt unloved or unwanted. That all changed once they found themselves living in the streets.

 

He’d tried at first to continue to go to school, but that didn’t work well. Especially when his parents couldn’t pay for neither the school lunches or a packed lunch or any other activities that required to be payed for. So when the social worker there started to ask questions, Bilbo simply stopped coming.

So he started passing his days begging in the streets, happy for once that his fragile look made people give him change and sometimes even food. And at the end of the day, he’d give his parents what he’d earned.

When he realised they used it to only further their addictions, he started keeping what he could without being obvious about it.

Until one night he woke up in the alley they’d appropriated for themselves, from under the best cover he’d manage to filch only to see his parents struggling while men took them off in a van.

Bilbo struggled to get up and go after them, only to be stopped by another man he had not seen.

‘Don’t bother kiddo. You’re parents dug their own grave when they tried to steal from Mr. Smaug. They’re lucky he decided to leave you alone instead of taking you as payment for their debt.’

‘But...’

‘Don’t make waves kid. You won’t like the consequences otherwise. Consider yourself lucky and try to stay out of trouble. Better you forget your parents, they don’t exist anymore.’

Bilbo swallowed then nodded, lying down again.

Once the man was satisfied, he knelt down and ruffled Bilbo’s hair with a gentle smile, seeming out of place on the giant of a man.

‘Keep safe.’

Then he was gone, and so were the van and his parents. He never saw any of them again.

 

Life got even harder after that. He was alone and no one was there to protect him anymore. He was fair game.

So he tried getting of the streets, tried finding a job, but who would employ a homeless boy that wasn’t of age yet?

So he continued to beg and tried hard not to follow in his parents footsteps. It wasn’t easy. It was so tempting to find one of the numerous dealers to find something that would make him forget, just for a bit, or to find some of the higher ups and ask for help, no matter the price.

Bilbo had been thinking that maybe he wouldn’t have the choice but to start selling himself if he wanted to continue simply surviving when he was handed a flyer from a strip-club in one of the not so seedy place in town.

Well… It was worth a shot. He’d dance half naked for strangers anyday over having to sell his body in other ways…

 

Bilbo went to the Erebor early in the evening before their opening time, just after having seen the flyer. He wasn’t sure he’d have the nerves to do it if he waited any longer than that.

At the door the bouncer was there already. A bear of a man with a partially shaved head covered in tattoos, bulging muscles and foreboding expression.

‘Wha’r you doing here lad?’

‘I… I’m here to ask for a job.’

Bilbo’s voice squeaked and he cursed himself when the other man’s eyebrow rose up his forehead in surprise.

After looking Bilbo down while the boy shuffled from one foot to the next, he opened the door with one arm.

‘Go to the bar and speak with Bofur.’

‘Thanks.’

His answer was mumbled as he stepped through, really not sure if this was really a good idea.

All lights were on inside, it had none of the dark and smoky atmosphere he’d first imagined. In front of him was a stage with a pole in it’s centre. Tables and chairs were put around it, with the chairs still upside down on the tables, a clear sign that the club was still closed. To his left was the bar, and behind it, polishing some glasses was who he assumed to be the Bofur the bouncer had told him about.

The man had a kind face from what Bilbo could see, and had the most ridiculous hat he’d ever set eyes on.

So lost in thoughts was Bilbo, that he didn’t realise the man had stopped what he was doing and was looking straight at him.

‘Hey squirt! Wha’ yer doing here?’

‘Oh! Um… The man at the door said to come to you about a job...’

‘How old are ye squirt?’

‘Eighteen...’

Then man, Bofur, didn’t look convinced if the look he was giving him was any indication.

‘Please!’

Bilbo wasn’t against begging if he needed to. He needed a job. Any job.

Bofur sighed and made a motion with his head.

‘Follow me. It’s Thorin that decides.’

Bilbo followed behind Bofur as the man led him backstage, then up a flight of stairs to an open office on the mezzanine.

‘What is it Bofur?’

‘Some lad to see you about a job...’

The man named Thorin finally looked up from what he’d been doing and let his gaze settle on the boy fidgeting one step behind Bofur.

Thorin frowned. There was no way the boy was of age.

‘I’ll deal with him Bofur, you can go back to work.’

Bofur left with a gentle squeeze to Bilbo’s shoulder.

Once alone, Thorin reclined in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin, looking at Bilbo with a hard stare.

‘You should be in school. You’re what? Fifteen, sixteen at the most.’

‘Sixteen sir...’

Thorin sighed at the whispered answer.

‘Your place is not in a strip-club. For whatever reason you decided to runaway from home, it’s not worth being in a place like this. Go home boy.’

He wasn’t ready for the outburst that followed.

‘I don’t have a home! I’ve been living in the streets begging for months now! And then my parents were taken away and I don’t know what to do! Please! I need a job. Anything. I’ll do anything. It’s this or whoring myself...’

Thorin looked at the boy. Really looked. And he saw the desperation, the hunger, the sadness and anger. He saw a rough like that no child should have to know. And Thorin couldn’t help but imagine his nephews on the boy’s place and that he would be happy to know that someone would extend a helping hand, even if it was only a job in a strip-club.

‘You won’t be dancing...’

‘Oh thank you sir!’

The boy was nearly glowing with happiness. And Thorin felt something twist inside, no child should be so happy because the owner of a strip-club just told them they had a job…

‘Let me finish boy. You won’t be dancing. You’ll help Bofur behind the bar and the cleaning before and after opening, you’ll do a little waitressing too. I won’t be letting you back in the streets either. A friend of mine had a free room that you could have. If you’re still here when you turn of age and want to try dancing, then we’ll see then. Okay?’

The boy was looking at him with wide eyes full of wonder, Thorin felt a little sick.

‘Thank you, thank you!’

And before either of them knew what had happened, Bilbo had barged into Thorin and was hugging him tight.

It was a blushing and stammering Bilbo that let go of Thorin. Clearing his throat Thorin looked down at the boy.

‘Well. What’s your name then? Can’t continue calling you ‘boy’.’

‘Oh! Bilbo Baggins, at your service sir.’

‘Then, Bilbo Baggins, welcome to the Company.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. Hope you like this one!  
> Two more chapters tomorrow then we'll be back on tracks.  
> Only ten more prompts and I'll be done with this challenge!


	21. College (Balin/Bilbo/Dwalin - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is his second year at university with a bad crush on his literature lecturer Balin Fundinson and his biker of a brother Dwalin, who comes often visit the former.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> University prompt!  
> Future threesome, no incest!

Bilbo Baggins was nineteen and had just started his second year at university. Much to his father’s delight he’d chosen to follow a Literature and History BA, to which he’d taken to like a fish to water.

And the only black cloud in the horizon was Balin Fundinson, one of his literature lecturer and his brother, Dwalin.

 

It wasn’t that he didn’t like them, no quite the contrary, and therein laid the problem. He liked them too much.

At first, it had started as admiration. Balin was a respected and eminent professor in his chosen field and he’d had several papers published, which Bilbo had all read before he’d even known the man personally. Bilbo had been extremely excited to have Professor Fundinson as his principal lecturer. The admiration had only grown when he’d learn to know the man itself and to see him talk passionately about his subject. That, coupled with the professor’s good looks and Bilbo had been hooked; line, sinker and all.   
Professor Fundinson was typically handsome, and he looked older than he probably was because of his white hair and beard.  But there was something about him that made Bilbo blush and stammer and act like an idiot when the professor talked to him.

He was taller than Bilbo, though not by much, and though the man seemed to like good food (as attested by his slight belly) he was also full of muscles, well hidden underneath expensive and tasteful tailored suits. His hair and beard were groomed carefully, and his blue eyes sparkled mischievously.

Bilbo could have dealt with a crush on a professor. He could have ignored it, maybe not easily, but he could have done it. Somehow.

But all went to hell when his professor’s brother came in the picture.

Dwalin Fundinson was a bear of a man. Tall, taller than his brother, and only bulging muscles. He had a long brown hair and beard, though the top of his head was shaved. The man was covered in tattoos and piercings. Bilbo never knew where to look and thought he discovered something new every single time he let his gaze fall on the man. Dwalin was a biker, and jeans and leather with a scottish accent that his brother had seem to have lost. Bilbo had wanted to dismiss him as all brawn and no brain, until he’d heard him debate with his brother about the veracity of one historical text or another.

From then on out, Bilbo hadn’t been able to forget or ignore his double crush on his professor and his sibling. And his imagination had seemed to take a turn for the worse, bringing forth the most filthy scenarios possible with his crushes starring and him in the middle.

And his reaction made him despair, as he couldn’t help but blush bright red every time he crossed their path. Which was quite often. How they hadn’t called him on it yet, he didn’t know, but he was counting his blessings and hoped it would last.

  
Too bad he didn’t know the Fundinson brothers had other ideas in store for him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I'll try and post the two next prompts today so we can be up to date.  
> It's short and it will be continued later.  
> Not much to say about it... ^^"


	22. Office (Bilbo/Thorin - Mature)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin is a man of restraint and control, but his secretary is proving to be testing them. If Bilbo continues, Thorin won’t be held responsible of his actions anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Office prompt!  
> Office sex, kissing and frottage, dirty talking. Bilbo/Thorin.

Thorin Oakenshield, head of Arkenstone Inc., was a man of tremendous control and impeccable restraints. Well, except when he lost his temper, but that was not often, and usually only if the subject of the matter was Greenleaf or Smaug, the bastards. And he had loyal and cool headed Balin to deal with that, thank Mahal.

But as days passed, Thorin could feel himself start to fray at the edges and his tightly held control slipping through his fingers.

And all that because of Bilbo Baggins, his new secretary.

That wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do, at all.

 

It was Balin who had interviewed and then hired Bilbo, after all, Thorin had other things, important things, to do with his time. And for the first time since he’d taken the reigns of Arkenstone Inc. after his father had stepped down, he regretted that decision. It would have been nice to have a warning or to somehow prevent it from happening. But the lad had been warmly recommended by Gandalf Legris and Balin had not been able to stop singing his praises after the initial interview. Which in and off itself was rare enough.

To add to his competence at his job (and Thorin had to, grudgingly, admit that the man really was doing a fine job, much better than any PA he’d had so far), the man was pretty. Too pretty for his own good really. He seemed nearly delicate. Short, nearly a whole head shorter than Thorin, with a mop of unruly dirty blond curls and the greenest eyes he’d ever seen, framed by eyelashes no man should have. He was on the chubby side, liking his food and staying in too much, but that only added to his appeal. And his personality was to match. He was smart, gentle, witty and had enough sass to outdo even his nephews on a bad day!

In other words, every time Thorin saw Bilbo, his first impulse was to push him on the first available surface and have his way with him, damn the consequences.

 

As it happened, it all came to a head a month later (to which Thorin congratulated himself for managing to hold in his raging libido that long).

 

Thorin’s office was a large affair, at the top of their building, taking the whole of one side and thus being entirely framed by windows. Even the inner wall was made of glass, leaving Thorin able to see his empire hard at work, with the possibility of letting the blinds down if in need of privacy for one reason or another (and Thorin’s mind unfailingly went in the gutters every time he thought about those reasons).

His massive oak desk had him face the inner wall, with the panoramic view of Erebor at his back.

Usually the view of his loyal underlings hard at work soothed him and helped him concentrate on the paperwork he had, but today was not one of those day. Today, the view was much too distracting.

And as always, the cause of all his distraction was none other than one Bilbo Baggins. Or more accurately, his arse. Wiggling about, just asking to be groped and worshiped and…

_And that was enough of that!_

Thorin shook his head and tried once more to concentrate. They had a merge later on in the year, and it had to be bone expertly if they didn’t want to lose more money than necessary in the transition.

Five minutes later, he was back at observing Bilbo and not for the first time today cursed his nephews and Bilbo’s affection for them.

Some time earlier in the morning, his nephews had come all but begging to Bilbo about borrowing his chair, _please, please, please with a cherry on top_. And Bilbo had only looked at them for a moment, before shrugging and giving his chair away with a smile and a fond shake of his head.

Which was why Bilbo was now hunched over, leaning with his elbow on his desk, his arse wiggling enticingly as he spoke on the phone.

And then his control cracked and Thorin was up before he realised he’d even made a decision to _do_ something about it.

 

Thorin strode to his office door, dropped the blinds down before he wrenched the door open, marched up behind Bilbo, took the phone from him, nearly snarling to the person on the other end ‘He’ll call back later’ then grabbed the other man’s hand and dragged him back to his office, closing the door behind him.

‘Thorin?’

Bilbo didn’t have time to say much else before his mouth was overtook by Thorin’s.

The kiss was harsh and demanding and Bilbo forgot everything except it, only coming back to himself as he felt the door pressed against his back, Thorin wedging a knee between his thighs and his mouth trailing hungry kisses and nips down his throat.

Panting and moaning, Bilbo couldn’t do much else but to submit to the pleasure Thorin was giving him, shamelessly rutting against the man’s thick thigh.

‘Tho-Thorin… I… Oh! I… I thought… Mmm. I thought you hated me...’

Bilbo was surprised he was coherent enough to voice his surprise, not that he was complaining of course, he’d had a crush on his boss since day one, and had been highly disappointed when he thought he was disliked that much.

‘No. Like you. But too damn distracting!’

The answer was muffled in his neck, between licking, biting and other devious things Thorin seemed to be able to do with his mouth, but it explained all the staring. The scowl was just his by default face. Or maybe Bilbo had mistaken hungry lust for angry hate. At any rate, now Bilbo was just happy to let Thorin take him on a ride. Really. He’d let the other man do anything as long as he didn’t stop the magnificent friction between his legs.

It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for Bilbo to come in his trousers like a teenager, with only Thorin’s kisses and his thigh pressing against his groin. Bilbo came with a whine and a Thorin’s name on his lips, before slumping down on the other man, breathing hard and slightly dazed.

He hadn’t come so hard in years. No, scratch that, he hadn’t ever come that hard, periode.

‘Thorin… That was… Wow...’

Thorin hummed, still busy nuzzling Bilbo’s neck and the younger man could feel a smile, which he could be anything would be smug.

‘I’m not finished with you yet, little one.’

With that Thorin took a better hold on Bilbo and lifted him up, giving no choice to Bilbo bet to put his arms and legs around him and hold on for dear life as he was unceremoniously transported then dropped onto Thorin’s desk.

Bilbo let out a squeak before glaring up at Thorin, who was smirking at him.

‘I’m going to fuck you until you can’t sit on the chair my nephews took without squirming and remembering that I’ve been inside you and that you can still feel my cum dripping out slowly.’

Bilbo could only moan at Thorin’s filthy talk, letting his eyes close and dropping completely on the desk, laid out for Thorin to with as he wished.

There were worst things after all…

 

Of course, Bilbo would end up blushing and hiding in Thorin’s suit when the whole office catcalled and applauded their, as it turned out, noisy coming together.

He’d have to lecture Thorin about propriety and respectability and places that were acceptable to engage in such activities…

Thorin would probably listen, nod, then do as he pleased anyway.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There! Only left with the chapter that is due today, I'll write it later, probably this evening.   
> Hope you like it. :)  
> It's probably the only Thorin/Bilbo I'll ever write, unless Thorin is dark, dark, really dark. It was going to be dark at first. I was going to make Thorin lose his control in an entirely different way, but the muse wouldn't let me. *pouts*


	23. Vampires/Werewolves (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Bilbo’s surprise when on the first full moon of his adventure with the dwarrows they all start undressing and transforming into wolves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vampires and Werewolves prompt!  
> No warnings that I can think of.

Bilbo had always known that some of the races of Middle Earth had pack of werewolves or covens of vampires amongst them, thanks to the books his father had gathered along his life and the ones Bilbo himself had added to the collection once he’d been of age and his father had passed away to Yavanna’s pastures.

Bilbo had always been intrigued by this trait some races shared when the hobbits themselves had never had any case of any subspecies. Never had the Shire seen a Hobbit born a werewolf or a vampire. And from what Bilbo had read, neither had it been the case during their Wandering Days when life had been much rougher than it was now that the hobbits had settled in the Shire.

Bilbo remembered listening wide eyed as his mother told him much about her travels and the people she had met on the road. How she told him that vampires were more common in Elves and werewolves with the Dwarrows and how men had both equally. How Bilbo had been horrified when Belladonna had told him how men treated their fellow weres and vampires, chasing them away and killing them on sight.

Belladonna had then proceeded to tell him somberly that he had to be wary of men and their closed mindedness. They often did not understand what was different, and their lack of understanding created fear in them, and that fear often translated in violence. She told him to even be weary of the Breelander, even though they had much contact with Hobbits, they still only saw them for what they wanted to see and what the careful Hobbits let them saw.

Bilbo had taken the words of warnings as they were meant to be taken and had always been especially careful the rare times he came in contact with any men, even the Rangers that protected the borders of the Shire.

There were other things his mother had told him when she was still alive, before the Fell Winter. Some of them about Hobbits and how they viewed the Tooks or anything that did not conform with what they viewed as proper. She told him that no matter what happened and when that it was fine to embrace his Baggins side for the sake of being more accepted in the community, but to never forget his Took side that was as much a part of him as the Baggins one. She gave him all the advice she could think of about adventuring, even though he himself was thinking more about emulating his father than following in his mother’s footsteps. But one thing he remembered the most were her wise words about a certain wandering wizard.

‘Now Bilbo dear, listen closely. Amongst other things, Gandalf always gets what he wants, even if you say no to him. One way or another, you will find yourself off on an adventure, no matter how hard you protest. And he will disappear on you leaving you in the middle of nowhere without warning. But never accuse him of being late, for a wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to. He will talk to you in riddles and keep you in the dark and will do all of this without an ounce of remorse. So, my son, if Gandalf to see you one day, just go with it. For nothing else will do. Oh, and learn to dodge his staff, it will be most useful, I’m sure.’

Why ever his mother thought of that last piece of advice, Bilbo did not know, but he took it to heart anyway.

As it happened, the advice about Gandalf ended up being the most useful of all…

 

When on the year of his 51st birthday Gandalf appeared at his front gate, Bilbo looked up in the grey wizards mischievous eyes and only sighed before inviting him in, resigned that whether he wanted it or not, he’d be on the road following wherever the wizard was leading.

Bilbo rolled his eyes when he say Gandalf’s eyes light up at his huffing resignation to just go with anything the wizard would throw at him.

‘Oh do shut up, Gandalf. My mother warned me about you and I’ve learned to take what she said very seriously. You’re bad news, it was you are.’

Bilbo was turning around to go back through his front door when he suddenly ducked and skidded to the side, then turning to glare up at Gandalf.

‘Really? You’ll need to be quicker if you want to hit me up the head with you staff old man. You sure you’re able enough to still be in business? You’re getting a bit old aren’t you?’

It was to a sputtering wizard and cackling hobbit that the door on Bag End closed, and that afternoon tea as only a hobbit could make was prepared.

 

‘When Gandalf comes, you can bet that you will have unannounced guest at one point or another after his visit. So always be prepared with a feast.’

Wiser words had never been said. When the first knock came at his door late in the evening, Bilbo had never been happier to have made a diner large enough to empty his pantry (after all they probably wouldn’t be there for long, and it wouldn’t do to let all his unused food to go to waste in his absence). And as it would seem, enough, also, to feed a pack of thirteen dwarrows.

Bilbo had been quite impressed with their ability to inhale food as quickly as they did, it could nearly rivale a hobbit’s appetite. He was less impressed by their manner, or lack thereof. Their manners in general had been atrocious, but their tables manners had been really appalling.

And then their leader had arrived with a rather ominous knock at the door. Thorin Oakenshield had barely been through his front door for five minutes that he’d already managed to insult Bilbo, his host. Needless to say Bilbo had not been impressed.

 _Well. Enough was enough._ He might be a calm and cool headed Baggins but he was also a Took, with a too short temper.

Before he knew it, Bilbo was just in front of Thorin, pointing a finger to his chest, a fierce scowl on his otherwise placid face.

‘Now see here you pillock!’

Bilbo heard the shocked collective gasp that went through the other dwarrows, but he paid them no mind.

‘I have been generous in offering food and shelter to you and your company even though I had no idea that you were coming at all thanks to a meddling old fool that likes keeping secrets. And what do I get in exchange? Horrendous manners, the disrespect of heirlooms, and insults. I have to say, but I’m starting to find the idea of throwing you out of my home very appealing right now, o king. So either you watch your tongue or you can go back from whence you came a deal with your unlucky number. Are we clear?’

‘Crystal.’

Bilbo smiled cheerfully.

‘Perfect! Now, why don’t you make yourself comfortable and sit down at the table and I’ll get you some diner? Though your company emptied most of my pantry, I left some for any later comers.’

Thorin did as he was told, dazed, as the other dwarrows were silent, looking from their leader to the hobbit and back again with wonder, while behind it all Gandalf chuckled. Hobbits always manage to surprise him indeed.

 

After that, the evening went more smoothly. Though Bilbo was still a bit miffed for not having received an apology. Not that he really was expecting one. Imagine, a king apologising to a simple hobbit?! Still, it would be an exercise in patience if the dwarrows lack manners so much. Maybe he would just chalk it all up to cultural differences? That might do the trick in reigning in his temper with them… After all, he didn’t really want to end up on the wrong end of Dwalin’s axes or Bifur’s spear…

They were off on Pony back early the next morning. And Bilbo was glad that his mother had had the forethought to make him take a couple of rides on one when he was younger. He didn’t want to imagine the dwarrows reaction, had he had fallen off like he had done on his very first try. At least now he could stay upright on one without fearing falling the other side with the pony’s movements.

Things continued to go quite smoothly and the dwarrows slowly began to include him in their daily conversations. Though four were more friendly and open than the others. Ori, Fili and Kili, the youngest of the company from what Bilbo understood were the most curious about hobbits in general and him in particular. Some of their question would have made him balk and splutter, but they were but tweens still if the way they acted was any indication (and what they were doing on a suicide quest like this one, Bilbo had no idea, but it wasn’t his place to say anything about it). Bofur was the last of the dwarrows that went out of his way to make Bilbo feel a part of the company, and he had been the first to act friendly with him, always a word to laugh and a smile to share.

And thus the journey continued for several weeks, with more of the company opening up and including Bilbo when he showed himself to be a good ear and an easy going person, always ready to lend a hand and not being as much of a hindrance as first they thought he would be.

Then one night everything changed.

 

They made camp early that day. Gandalf had wandered off somewhere a few hours earlier, saying that he would catch up with them later and to not wait up for him.

As with every evening, each had a task to do to make the camp livable for the night, with Bombur making dinner for them with the last of their stores and what game Kili had managed to shoot on the way.

Bilbo was surprised when all the dwarrows lined up for dinner as soon as the camp was in order. The sun had not even set yet! And when he went to help Bombur, he was surprised to see that the dwarf had made much more than usual. And in accordance served a much more important ration in the bowls of everyone.

Not that Bilbo was complaining. He’d been short of starving himself since the beginning of the journey and a meal of this calibre, even of really still not as much as he would eat at home, was a welcome sight indeed.

So Bilbo wondered, but shrugged it away quickly.

But when all the dwarrows started to undress down to their birth suits, Bilbo squeaked in alarm.

_What in the world?!_

Bilbo was trying to look anywhere but at the naked dwarrows and to find an explanation to the reason of why they would undress all of a sudden.

The explanation came not a moment later when the sun set and the moon came out. A full moon…

Bilbo swore and cursed Gandalf for him meddling and keeping important information for himself. A lone hobbit with a pack of thirteen werewolf dwarrows…

Well… At least he had a chance not to end up as diner since they’d eaten if not an hour earlier.

If he ended up mauled, he was going to come back and haunt Gandalf for the rest of eternity! And if he didn’t… Well, he’d be having _words_ with the old coot!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, the chapter I should have posted yesterday. I'll try to post the one for today later in the evening again, but it depends on how my mood is...  
> If this seems ruched near the end, it's because it is. I will continue this and this first chapter will be changed and expanded, but with how I was going, there wouldn't have been any werewolves dwarrows for some time otherwise. So there.   
> Hope you like it anyway.


	24. Genderswapped (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo has had a good teacher in the person of her mother. Her father might have not approved of those teachings, but they have proved useful on numerous occasion, she might be the Mad Spinster of Hobbiton (and perhaps the whole Shire) but at least she can take care of herself. And right now, the only thing she wants is play a game of golf with a certain dwarf king’s head...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Genderswapped prompt!   
> Female Bilbo, mention of secondary characters death (Bungo and Belladonna), timeline what timeline?

All that knew her, and had known her mother, all agreed that Bilbo Baggins was every bit of Belladonna Took’s daughter. And though some had thought that mixing the calm and steady blood of the Bagginses to the wild and adventurous one of the Tooks would help even out things in the a child born from the union of Bungo and Belladonna found themselves perplexed by the fact that it seemed to only exacerbate it instead.

Bilbo’s Took side got her in trouble, yes, but the Baggins’ one got her out of it. Every, single, time. Much to both her parents delight. And the consternation of everyone else in the Shire.

Contrary to what most people thought, the one that encouraged her the most was perhaps her father, the dear, calm and always steady, Bungo Baggins, and not wild Belladonna.

Bilbo will always remember the day she came back from school, clothes ripped from having fought and tears tracking down her cheeks because the other hobbitlings had taunted her for being different and her father had taken her on his lap and with a very serious look had told her that she should always be proud of who she was and to never, ever try and hide or repress it. _Though, young miss, fighting isn’t the answer, ignore those busybodies that know nothing of what they talk about. You will be happier for it._ Behind her father, her mother had stood with a smile on her lips and Bilbo had decided that from now on she would do exactly that.

As Bilbo grew older and her desire for adventures grew steadily more important, Belladonna started to take her teachings much more seriously. This was not a game anymore and she would do her best to help her daughter never be helpless against trouble if it ever happened, though she prayed to Yavanna that it never came to that.

Thus, Bilbo would go to school to learn what every little fauntling had to learn, and then the rest of her days was shared between her father and mother teaching her what they thought she would need to become a strong and independant hobbit lass.

And while Bungo concentrated on making Bilbo know as much as he could teach her about the world outside the Shire without leaving it, Belladonna engaged in giving her daughter the tools she would need to survive in the wilds or amongst men.

So Bilbo learned to wield daggers, in close contact or at a distance, as well as the bow. Belladonna taught her to hunt to survive as well as where it would hurt the most to defend herself. She was taught how to make camp and find herbs and fruit that would feed and heal her, she was also taught how to make herself look like a boy, for safety’s sake when if she ever went out of the Shire.

Life continued that way until that fateful winter, the Fell Winter, when not even of age yet, Bilbo found herself orphaned, Bungo taken by the sickness and Belladonna by the wolves that the winter had brought with it.

 

Bilbo hardened her heart after that. Though she had favourite cousins and favoured friends, she did not let anyone else get close to her, putting away any clothes and accessory that suggested she was open for courtship.

From that day on, she took both her parents teaching to heart as never before, wanting to make the proud from where she knew they were still looking after her.

It was a month after their funeral that Bilbo decided that she wanted to be ready for anything that came her way (and Eru save her from Gandalf) and chopped her hair as short as any hobbit lad and put her skirts to the back of her closet and took her father’s clothes as her own until she could have some made especially for her.

And she had laughed, maybe a bit hysterically, when her appearance had been the talk of all Hobbiton and at the outraged cries of all those prim and proper hobbits that knew nothing of her (Lobelia Sackville-Baggins loudest of them all).

Diligently, Bilbo had continued her learnings, even without her parents there to help and support her.

And she endured. Yes. Most of all, she endured and thrived.

 

Mostly. For still, she felt stifled in the Shire, not belonging and out of place, itching to just up and leave but not really wanting to leave Bag End and her homeland without a good reason. And so she stayed, and she did what she could to satisfy, at least a bit, the wanderlust that was coursing through her and heating her blood.

She let the insults and the whispers and the gossip all flow around her, never letting them get to her. For she would be damned if it would be them that would chase her out of her home, the one her father had built with his bare hands for his beloved wife.

As it happens, her way out, the reason to go she had been waiting for since the death of her parents arrived at her front door late one afternoon, in the form of a wandering grey wizard.

 

**To be continued.**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you have it. We're up to date now! Yay!  
> So, this...   
> I'm not a fan of genderswapping. Really. So I thought I'd a short one shot and be done with it, but it seems the muse was inspired along the way and you now have something that will be continued. *shrugs*   
> Tell me what you think about it, because I'm feel like it's something that's been done and redone and chewed on too much and spat out again only to be chewed on once more... (you're totally welcome for the gross imagery)  
> I'm really not convinced with this.  
> Bilbo will be a sassy witty (Bilbo can't be anything else) BAMF, because I can't imagine Bilbo being raised as a girl any other way.   
> Anyhow.  
> Enjoy. ;)


	25. Circus (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Company, a little family circus is coming to Hobbiton. The Shire might be a peaceful place, but that doesn’t mean that all is well, nor that they are particularly accepting of strangers. But there are exceptions, and a young tween named Bilbo Baggins is one of them.

Bilbo Baggins had always loved the circus.

He remembers that once, his mother took him all the way to Rivendell for his birthday so they could see an elven troupe that was passing through. Bilbo had been in awe of them and the performances that they did. Climbing and dancing on sheets of silk hanging from the ceiling, horse dressage and acrobaties on them, trapezists flying from one end of the room to another, dancers and performers that were so graceful that Bilbo had thought them coming straight from the sky or another world. His mother had laughed, patted him on the head to ruffle his hair and assured him that though they were talented, all elves had this kind of grace. Clumsy as he was, Bilbo had sighed despondently and admitted to his mother that he would have liked to learn to do the kind of things the elves had been doing.

But more often, the only circus Bilbo had the occasion to see was the ones of men that passed through Bree in the spring and summer months. Belladonna enjoyed going with him when the desir made itself known, and it was always somewhat of an adventure for Bilbo, traveling all the way to Bree and staying a couple of days there so they could see one of the performances. Bilbo liked what he say from the men in the circus that passed through, but there was always something missing in his mind, more so after he’d had the occasion to have something to compare it with. The clowns always made him laugh to tears and the juggling of various objects had him try it at home (though his mom had forbidden him from ever trying it with crockery again, _thank you very much_ ), and what the men could make wild animals do had made him wonder how they could do that (‘ _May I have a bear pet, mama?_ ’ He had asked. Needless to say the answer had been a resounding ‘ _No_ ’, and a stern lecture on the reasons not to go find one by oneself had swiftly followed).

Bilbo had often lamented to his parents about the fact that their were never any circus that passed and stayed in the Shire itself. Why did they all have to stay in the lands of men or elves? Bilbo had firmly told his parents that he was quite sure that any fauntling and tween would be delighted if they would.

Bilbo’s parents had shared a look that Bilbo, at the time, had not really understood, though in his child’s eyes looked sad.

‘Bilbo, my son,’ his father had started. ‘The Shire, though peaceful is a place that most know nothing about, and Hobbits mostly like it that way. Your mother and I are the only one that have contact with the world outside or ever venture out of it. Well, except for the Hobbits of Bree, but those are a different breed altogether. Anyway! Hobbits do not like change and like strangers even less so. And even though Gandalf has been known through these lands for long, he is still looked upon with suspicion and seen as being trouble.’

Bilbo had cheekily answered that _that_ was because Gandalf _was_ trouble and _always_ ended up dragging Belladonna for an adventure or two. Bungo had laughingly walloped him behind the head, but he had not denied it.

‘The point, son, is that a circus would not really be welcomed here. And they would probably not make as much money as they would in the land of men, dwarrows or elves. The Tooks would surely poke their nose about, maybe even the more daring Brandybucks, but most Hobbits would turn their nose up and cast them out. I am not proud of this my son, but that is how things are.’

Bilbo had cast his eyes down with a frown. He knew, from experience, that Hobbits were not always kind with people that they considered different, odd, _mad_ … But surely the idea of good entertainment trumped that? Bilbo tried to imagine a reason enough to forgo voluntarily the pleasure of having a circus troupe in the Shire, and couldn’t get his head around it.

So he did the only thing he could and shrugged with a pout before running off to play with some of his Tooks cousins, his father’s laughter chasing behind him, only to come back later in the afternoon, tracking mud on the carpets, eyes bright and a cheerful smile on his face.

Bilbo forgot all about the discussion he had with his father that day, but he never stopped hoping that one day, _one day_ , a circus would venture down to the Shire.

 

Bilbo got his wish in the summer before his 25th birthday.

 

Thorin Oakenshield’s Company, dwarrow circus troupe, was lost. Utterly and completely _lost_. Balin couldn’t even find where on the map they were anymore. Why, _oh why_ , had they let _Thorin_ , of all people, lead them today? After all, it wasn’t as if they didn’t know of their leaders abysmal orientation skills. The dwarf could get lost going to the _market_ for Mahal’s sake!

Balin sighed and shook his head. _Be this a lesson for next time_ , he thought. With a bit of luck there wouldn’t _be_ a next time.

Ahead, moving towards them, was what seemed to be a man. _Well, might as well_.

Balin quickly jogged to the man, leaving the rest of the Company in the wagons behind him.

‘Excuse me sir, might I enquire for a bit of help?’

‘Master dwarf! What brings you in these lands? It’s not often we see your kind around here.’

‘We are lost. We must have taken a wrong turn somewhere down the road and now we have no idea as to where we are and those cannot find our way with the map. Could you mayhap tell me where it is that we find ourselves?’

‘Why master dwarf, you’re in the Shire of course! You’ll find Hobbiton just a bit further down the road. I had business there myself with one of the Thains. I’ll warn you though, they are not keen on strangers. You will probably have more chances back in Bree master dwarf.’

‘Thank you sir, for your help.’

‘Good luck to you and yours master dwarf. Good day.’

‘Good day to you too!’

The man continued, passing the wagons and the waiting troupe with a wave and a smile.

Balin then went back to their leader. Snorting under his beard when he saw the scowl Thorin was sporting, pride hurt.

Dis, Thorin’s sister, handed the map back to Balin with a huff at her brother’s antics.

‘It appears, we are in the Shire, not too far from Hobbiton from what I was told.’

Dis and Balin bent over the map, letting Thorin sulk to his heart’s content, trying to find their location again.

From the direction they had come and the landmarks they had passed, with the new information they had been given, it was easy to find where they were on the map.

Balin relied the information the man had given him, about the inhabitants of the Shire being weary of strangers, still, seeing as Bree was too far away, they decided to try anyway, they needed the rest and they could probably still manage to make a little money here before moving on.

And thus, Thorin Oakenshield’s Company continued onward to Hobbiton.

 


	26. Favourite Film (Bilbo/Dwalin - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Retired Extremely Dangerous. That is what all old members of the Company are tagged under in the government's files. What happens when a corrupt branch targets them as an ideal scapegoat and tries to kill them? They band together again and fight back of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Favourite film plot prompt!   
> Film chosen; RED (which was first a comic, but I haven't read it, yet).  
> Typical canon violence. Otherwise no warnings I can think of.

Dwalin Fundinson, retired MI6 black ops, ripped his monthly pension check for the second time that month and proceeded to phone the London based pension service, like every other time he did the same thing.

‘Please wait until we connect you to your personal agent’

Dwalin rolled his eyes at the annoying background music that was put on in the meantime.

‘Good morning, Bilbo Baggins at your service, what may I do for you today?’

‘Morning, it’s Dwalin.’

‘Mister Dwalin! Don’t tell me they didn’t send that check again?!’

‘Afraid so...’

‘Well really! That’s not serious at all. Can’t believe they haven’t remedied to the situation yet. It’s been going for months now!’

‘Ah yeah… It’s fine. I do end up getting it.’

‘Of course you do. But only when it’s already nearly time for the next one to come in and then we’re back for another round.’

‘I’ve learnt to get around it.’

‘You shouldn’t have to! I’ll call them and have some words with them. We’ll get this sorted. I’d say in no time, but that would be lying seeing how things have been going until now.’

Dwalin snorted.

‘Oh I know. Who am I kidding. Though, if I might say, I’m nearly glad there is a muck up with your checks on a regular basis...’

‘Really? Nearly?’’

‘Well, I can’t say that I’m happy with the fact that you have to deal with this kind of problems with your pension, but it does make you have to call me several times a months, and I admit to quite enjoying them...’

Dwalin could _hear_ Bilbo blushing on the other side, and he let out a chuckle.

‘Ah, I enjoy them too.’

‘Good. That’s good.’

There was silence for a moment before Bilbo started again.

‘So, how was your week?’

‘The usual. Boring routine really. Started to try and grow things in the garden. It’s not all that conclusive I have to say. Made a nice roast last Sunday, used the recipe you gave me. My brother was annoyingly surprised when he came over for dinner. Same old otherwise. What ‘bout you?’

‘Dull. I might just keel over from boredom. Really, if I hadn’t been cheated from my inheritance, I’d be traveling right now, not doing a job I hate, for a boss I hate even more, and waiting impatiently to have saved enough money to go on a two weeks holiday somewhere nice.’

‘You have somewhere in mind?’

‘Well, anywhere really. But I suppose Russia would be interesting.’

‘Russia? Been there a few times.’

‘Really? How was it?’

‘Cold.’

Bilbo snorted.

‘Yes, I suppose it would be. Oh. I have to go. Nice talking to you. Bye.’

Dwalin hung the phone back on the wall and sighed at himself. His brother would be laughing his arse off if he’d heard how loquacious he’d been about Russia. Cold indeed. Then again, seeing as each time he’d gone it’s been the dead of winter, and he’d been out in the wilderness with his team for one mission or another, usually under the cover of night, there wasn’t anything else he could have said about it. Dark and bloody, though that would have been worse. Didn’t really have the time for tourism when you’re running trying to avoid bullets being lodged in unsavory places…

 

A week later, his home was invaded by a six man hit squad in the middle of the night.

He’d been quite put out by it. Disposing of the three fist in an efficient and quick manner. And the last three in a more… explosive way. He was out of his now partially destroyed house before an hour had passed. Too bad he’d have to find another place to live. He’d quite liked it here. But he didn’t think the neighbours would forgiving of the breach in the peace that had just occurred a week before Christmas.

He was in his car to London driving as fast as he could without being arrested. It’d been easy to find Bilbo’s address and it wasn’t a stretch to imagine that his phone had been tapped. Bilbo was the only one he called with any regularity that would be in danger. All the others could take care of themselves.

 

Bilbo was never again going to let Hamfast arrange a blind date for him. Actually, he wasn’t going to let _any_ of his friends set him up any more.

It’d just about been the worst evening he’d ever lived through. He’d have cut it short earlier, but Hamfast had made him promise to give the man a chance and let him drive him home.

Eurgh. The man had been a pig. And that was being insulting to the pig. No manners at all. Boring and boorish. Not one thing redeemable. Whatever was Hamfast _thinking_?! So, okay, his relationships had all left something to be desired and had usually ended in disasters. But was that a reason to help things along? Was a decent man all that hard to find?

Bilbo was walking to his kitchen, undoing his tie and waistcoat on the way, needing a nice glass of brandy to unwind from the catastrophic dinner.

He was still grumbling under his breath, to open the cupboard that hosted his harder alcohol when his head shot up and he frowned.

Did he just imagine a strange man standing in his sitting room?

Backtracking, he peered through the door, and sure enough a bear of a man was standing there, looking rather sheepish (if he said so himself).

‘Um. It’s Dwalin. I was in the area…’

‘What are you going in my house?! How did you get in?! Get out! Get out!’

Bilbo took the first thing that he had at hand (which happened to be a quite a heavy tome he liked to have at hand occasionally) and threw it at Dwalin.

‘I’ll shout! I’ll cry bloody murderer, I will!’

‘Now, now lad, calm down! I’m not here to hurt you, but you’re in danger Bilbo!’

‘Danger? Don’t hurt me! I didn’t do anything to you, you brute!’

‘Calm down! You don’t have anything to fear from _me_! I’m here to save you for god’s sake!’

‘Oh, har-har. Like I’m going to believe that! And how did you find my address anyway?!’

‘Listen lad! They’re after me, for some goddamn reason, and they’ve tapped my phone. They know I’ve talking to you and so they’re after you too now. We have to go quickly before it’s too late.’

This didn’t make any sense! Oh why did he always have to have crushes on the crazy ones?! It wasn’t fair! He was tempted to stomp his foot and throw a tantrum (for all the good it would do), when he finally noticed his travel bag near the entrance.

‘Is that my bag?’

‘Yes.’

‘You made my bag…?’

‘Yes...’

‘You… You went through my things. Why would _do_ something like that?! You… You pervert! Get a kick out of it do you?!’

‘Oh for…! We don’t have the time! I’m sorry but it’s time to go now.’

And that’s how Bilbo found himself bound and gagged at the back of a car, stupidly arguing with the man he’d had numerous conversations with on the phone, listening to him explaining why he’d just been kidnaped.

If this wasn’t the most ridiculous evening he’d had in all his life, he didn’t know what was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So!  
> RED isn't technically my favourite film. The Hannibal Lecter trilogy is. But I already did those characters in the favourite book plot prompt. And I saw the sequel of RED when it came out a couple of weeks back (or was that a month back already?), and since I couldn't decide what I want to do and that RED seemed to fit with the Company quite right, I chose that. ^^  
> Also, sorry for the near week without anything, but RL has been hectic. And I really wasn't in the mood to write anything at all. I don't think you'll have two chapters a day to make up for lost time, but you never know. With any luck we'll be closing up on Sunday with the last chapter, but seeing as I start my violin lessons again on that day, it might be later next week...   
> That's the problem with RL, it takes precedence.   
> Hope you enjoy this one.   
> It might be continued, depending on the muse.


	27. Hospital (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo wakes up in pain in Erebor’s hospital room. He has no recollection of ever leaving the Shire and joining the company. It is quite the shock when he realised he has lost an eye and a leg and is still far from being out of the woods, surrounded by strange dwarrows, all of which must surely be lying. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hospital prompt.  
> No warning that I can think of for this chapter.

Bilbo woke up with a pained groan. Everything hurt. By Eru what had happened? Had Hamfast dragged him off to the Green Dragon to celebrate one thing or another? Maybe Bell was pregnant again… He still doesn’t remember all that happened the _last_ time Hamfast had wanted to celebrate that kind of news, much to his embarrassment. What had he done?! Not only his head was hurting something terrible, but his whole body was only one big ache. Bilbo moaned again and lifted his left arm to rub a hand over his face only to be shocked when his hand encountered bandages.

 _That_ , got him out of the fog still surrounding him and to open his eyes, and Bilbo struggled to get up in his --the bed.

Then there was a hand holding him down, trying to sooth the anxious hobbit.

‘Easy lad. You’ll hurt yourself.’

‘Where am I?!’

It a croaked whisper that came out and it was painful to speak.

‘Shush, shush, don’t speak Bilbo, you’ll hurt yourself.’

A cup was put in front of his mouth and he had no other choice than to drink what was in it. It didn’t take long for the tea to take effect and for the hobbit to become limp once more, still feeling a hand lightly petting his hair and whispering that all would be alright at to just sleep it off. It wasn’t much after that he was totally unconscious, blind and deaf to the world around him.

‘Oin, he seemed confused...’

‘Of course he did Thorin! He survived the battle by a thread and has been in a sleep we barely thought he’d ever wake up from. A little disorientation is bound to happen at first. He’ll be right as rain when he wakes up next time and the pain is better.’

‘Are you sure?’

Oin didn’t answer Thorin and the King sighed. There was no way to know, the hit on the head often had unpredictable side effects and the battle would have been a shock for their hobbit. He had no place on a battlefield, even though it was thanks to him that both he and his nephews were now alive and well.

They had to wait and see. Thorin couldn’t help but be weary of the shock their burglar would still live through when he came to and realised what had been lost in the battle and would never be recovered.

He only hoped that Bilbo would forgive him and his madness when he had banished him at the gates. Though he knew very well that he didn’t deserve it.

So he shook his head sadly and left Oin look after the patients that were still in the hospital wing and went back to his kingly duties. He was _not_ looking forward to having to talk to Thranduil and Bard again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortness of this...   
> This AU will be expanded. I'm nearly sure of it. And there will probably be a pairing but I'm waiting to see where the muse will take me.
> 
> On another note, I'm thinking of making a modern AU of the Hobbit with a crossover with BBC's Jekyll... What d'you think? Though it would be done later on, I have other things to write first. But the plot bunny doesn't want to let go...


	28. Orphanage (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is led to Bree-land’s Orphanage after the death of his parents, by an annoyed Lobelia. Only but a fauntling still, the Men of the orphanage do not treat him well. Thorin and Dwalin are passing by on their way back to the Blue Mountains after some travel to get money for the family when they witness the mistreatment of the strange little child and decide to do something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Orphanage prompt!  
> Child abuse warning.

Bilbo was nearly ten when he was led by his aunt Lobelia to Bree-land’s orphanage. His parents had died the year before and his guardianship had fallen to the Sackville-Bagginses when all his other relatives had been too busy with their own children to take him in.

He’d stayed for all of six months with his aunt before she had enough, she had his inheritance and no one would notice his disappearance, recluse that he’d become.

So Lobelia made her husband arrange a cart to lead the three of them to Archet and finally be rid of the nuisance that was their nephew.

When his aunt knocked at the orphanage’s door, she all but shoved Bilbo into the grasp of the woman at the door and left with words that made Bilbo flinch.

‘His parents are dead, nobody wants him. Do with him as you will.’

And that was the last the Bilbo ever saw of his aunt, and, frankly, the last he saw of any hobbits for quite some time.

 

Bilbo was scrubbing the front porch of the orphanage while the other human children ran around playing and laughing. Though they had no parents, they were still happy, Bilbo had noticed. But then he supposes, none of them had work to do like he did. Nor did they get punished as he was for the silliest things. His tenth birthday came and went without him really noticing. Nothing was done, nothing changed and as always he was overlooked by the rare humans wanting to adopt a youngling as their own. Then again, he was considered more like a servant than like another orphan.

Bilbo sighed and scrubbed harder, ignoring how his hands and knees hurt.

‘Hafling!’

He had never more hated that word. He wasn’t half of anything! Still, he wasn’t ‘Bilbo’ anymore, he was always ‘hafling’. He hated it. It made him want to shout and kick and run. And _cry_ … Most of all cry. He missed his mama and papa, their love and warmth, their smiles and laugh, their smell and embraces. But he was so angry at them for leaving him! Leaving him with horrid Lobelia and abandoning him to this fate.

‘Hafling! You come here when I call for you!’

A rough hand grabbed him by his collar and lifted him off the ground, his brush falling out of his hands as he was shaken by the man.

‘You’re wanted in the kitchen hafling! Get going, runt!’

And Bilbo was unceremoniously thrown back on the hard ground. Bilbo bit back a groan and scrambled to his feet as quick as possible before scampering to the back kitchen. At least there the cook didn’t treat him too bad. He even got a few scraps to eat and ease his mostly empty stomach. He had often helped his mama prepare all the meals before she died and that made him at least proficient enough for the cook to tolerate him without too much trouble, as long as he stayed out of the way and did as he was told without trying to steal food.

He done that once at the beginning, and he still could remember the beating that had followed. He’d learnt his lesson.

As he entered the kitchen, the cook ignored him except to point at a pile of potatoes in a corner. Bilbo sat on the stool in front of them and set to work to peel them and put them in the empty bucket.

At least here there weren’t any taunts and slurs or stones flying his way…

 

Coming back from Ered Nimrais, both Thorin and Dwalin were happy to finally be nearer to home and back in more friendly lands.

The journey had been long, and made longer by the detours they had both made to be able to do their trade with men and elves along the way.

They were now nearing Bree, though they had decided to first stop by the three other villages that surrounded the greater town of Bree-land.

‘D’ya think we’ll see any hobbits like we did in Bree on the way to?’

Thorin shrugged. From what he’d seen, there wasn’t as many hobbits north of Bree, seemed to majoritarily gather in Staddle, much further south of their current position, south east of Bree.

Archet was their destination now, before going down to Combe then Bree proper before going through the Shire and finally continuing to Ered Luin, where they’d be home and reunited with the family they’d left to find work and money.

They were just entering the town when Dwalin shoved him lightly and nodded towards a slightly bigger house with quite a few children running around playing in the front yard. Thorin frowned, wondering why Dwalin had demanded his attention. He looked around the yard, when he finally saw it.

In the middle of the yard, scrubbing the cobblestone on hands and knees was a child. Couldn’t be more than twenty by dwarven standards. Not only was the child slaving away on it’s own, but he was wearing nothing more than glorified raggs and the other children seemed to vilify him, though it seemed he did not pay them any attention, keeping his eyes on his chore.

‘Why would the humans let one of their young ones do that?’

‘Not a human. Look at ‘is feet.’

And indeed, when Thorin looked closer, he noticed the surprisingly large feet, with both them and the child’s lower legs covered in fur.

‘A fauntling! What is he doing here? From what I’ve seen of hobbits, they don’t abandon one if their own...’

It was then that the two dwarrows heard a shout of ‘Hafling!’ ringing through the house. They saw the child clench his jaw and closes his eyes tight, before the shout was repeated and a large muscular man came out and grabbed the hobbit, shaking him hard.

Dwalin had to stop Thorin from marching up to the man and unsheathing his sword, though the dwarf was growling lowly in his throat too. Both of them were ready to have words with the men when he decided that throwing the child to the floor was a good idea.

Fuming, Thorin watched the faunt scramble up and away.

‘Cannae do anything right now, Thorin.’

No, right now they couldn’t. But charring a look with Dwalin, he knew that they _would_ be doing something about it in the near future. Mahal help him if he left the child any longer than necessary in that place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh! A second chapter today! Only two more left and then we're done!  
> For references: Bilbo is 10, physically by dwarrow standards he looks 20 and 6 for men. Mentally and emotionally, he'd be in between 6 and 10.  
> Thorin at that time is 154 and Dwalin 128.   
> All places and ages are canon (since I used their canon birth dates), though the approximation of age equivalent between races isn't.  
> Hope you like it!


	29. In a Band (Bilbo/Dwalin - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dis, Bilbo’s best friend has finally managed to get him to agree to come to a concert of her brother’s band, The Company. When his eyes cross those of the drummer, he knows he’s done for. And he doesn't think he'll want to forgive Dis anytime soon for her meddling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a band prompt!  
> No warnings that I can think of.  
> Future Bilbo/Dwalin.

Bilbo loved Dis. He really did. Adored her. Except when she was being a sneaky meddling biddy, he didn’t like her much then. Still loved her, of course, she was his best friend after all, but when she was in a mood, it wasn’t always very likable. Especially when she decided that it would be perfectly okay for her to trick Bilbo into promising her to do something he’d refused to do for the past five years. Mainly, attending a concert. Her brother’s band concert. Brother with whom he’d never gotten along with. That stuck up, scowling, mightier-than-thou wanker!

Bilbo took a breath to try and calm down. He’d made a promise; against his best judgment, and he was going to see it through, even if it killed him. Literally.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he sighed. He hadn’t dressed this way in nearly a decade, but once again, he had Dis to thank for _that_. She’d insisted that he take his old and battered leather jacket and New Rock boots out of retirement from the bottom of his closet for the occasion. Wouldn’t go anywhere without him wearing them, and was totally prepared to make him suffer otherwise.

Dis was _evil_ , he was sure of it.

So there he was, in his most comfortable pair of jeans (no reason to add to his already considerable awkwardness), a plain black button-up shirt tucked in, his boots over his trousers and his jacket finishing the look.

It wasn’t too bad, he supposed. But he wasn’t twenty anymore. He was a respectable university teacher now, and he’d left his wilder years behind him, _thank you very much_.

‘Bilbo! You ready yet doll?’

Bilbo grumbles under his breath something Dis would smack him behind the head for if she ever heard him, then sighed again.

Time to face the music, as the saying went.

Bilbo opened the door, and was met with a gleeful Dis (the worse sort in his opinion).

‘Well don’t you look precious! Twirl for me darling!’

He did as he was bid, praying to god that this torture would quickly be over. With any luck, something awful would happen and prevent them from going anywhere.

‘Well look at that arse! Why have you been hiding it all these years?!’

A resounding slap on his rear accompanied her words, and made Bilbo gnash his teeth together.

Maybe he should have burnt the whole ensemble instead of keeping it for sentimental value? Knowing Dis, it wouldn’t have saved him… Still, he might decide to go with it once this hell on earth was over and done with.

 

They arrived at the bar where Thorin (the infamous and much detested brother, if Bilbo said so himself) and his band was playing not long before they would get on stage.

As expected, the place was packed.

He was going to kill Dis once this was over. She knew how he didn’t liked crowds. It was going to be loud, sweaty, and he’d feel like a sardine in a tin!

Bilbo let himself be led inside and then to the bar, only to have a beer shoved into his grasp a few minutes later.

Dis was apparently well known there, as it wasn’t long before two stools were vacated for them to sit one. Well, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth!

He sat down and nursed his beer, looking at the bottom of the glass as if it held all the answers of the world’s mysteries.

‘Cheer up Bilbo!’

Bilbo glared at his friend. How she could be so cheerful when he couldn’t even hear himself think, he didn’t know. Then again, he’d always thought she wasn’t exactly right in the head. And seeing her parents and two brothers, he wasn’t really surprised. Had to be, to survive it.

Completely bonkers, the lot of them. Why he ever thought befriending her was a good idea was beyond him.

‘Ah, here we go. Let the show, begin.’

Bilbo rolled his eyes at Dis’ dramatics. He frowned as he finally looked up at the stage, where the band was coming in. Thorin and Frerin where first, of course. Both with guitars slung on their shoulder. He grimaced at them and sniffed before turning back to his drink.

Dis elbowed him in the stomach to make him turn again and he growled at her, only managing to make her laugh at him and ruffle his hair. _As if he was still a child!_

But he did as she wanted, and looked back towards the stage.

Bilbo had to do a double take when his gaze finally fell on the drummer of the band. _Well fuck me!_ He was going to kill her. Slowly. Curse Dis and her meddling ways!

Now he knew exactly _why_ it was she had never left the matter well enough alone. The drummer was exactly his type of men. His guilty pleasure. One of the only remnant of his bicker and rock ‘n roll days, were his tastes in men.

Tall, muscular, tattooed, fierce but soft inside. And _oh my_ , but this one was a fine specimen indeed.

Though he was sitting, he seemed tall indeed. At least a head taller than Bilbo himself (not that it was very hard to achieve, short that he was). He was bald (or shaved, though Bilbo couldn’t tell from the distance) and he seemed to have tattoos on his scalp. His vest didn’t hide much, to Bilbo’s delight. Muscular tattooed arms were beating away on his drums and Bilbo had to swallow and make sure he wasn’t drooling unattractively.

Bilbo couldn’t do anything else but stare. He didn’t pay attention to anything, just letting the music pass over him and not even noticing Dis’ grin and mischief filled eyes next to him.

Bloody hell, he was done for. He was going to die. _Though he’d be damned if he didn’t take Dis with him._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, only one left! Hopefully tomorrow.  
> I had fun writing this. ^^ It will be continued.  
> Hope you liked it!


	30. Your choice (Gen. - Teen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo is an omega that has been under suppressing herbs for nigh on all his life. When a pack of dwarrows, all alphas or betas, led by a meddling old wizard come knocking on his door, he’s quite at a loss about what he’s suppose to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My choice of AU prompt! I chose Alpha/Omega verse...  
> Warnings in the fact that the Shire has really backwards views on things, though there is nothing really explicit. No pairings at the moment.

Bilbo had presented rather young. When usually hobbits presented in their tweens, Bilbo had presented when he was still a young fauntling.

It had been a shock for both his parents, when they’d found their only child writhing and panting, in pain and not understanding what was happening to him, at an age where it was much too early for anyone to do anything about it. There was a reason, after all, that presenting happened in their tweens and not before.

Thus, Belladonna and Bungo had both agreed that, though it was not well perceived, their son would be drinking heat suppressing tea from now on, until the time he was ready.

Alas, they had been too late to stop the gossip from spreading like wildfire.

The news that their young son had presented as an omega had reached Buckland, Tuckborough and Needlehole by the end of the day.

Bilbo’s parents had sat him down, once his first heat had settled, and explained something they thought they wouldn’t have to explain for many years.

Bilbo, the ever independent child, taking much more after his alpha mother than his omega father and bearer, had been horrified. Especially seeing the backwards views the Shire had about his gender.

From that day on, he took his tea with nary a grimace at the bitter taste, and avoided any parents of young alpha’s trying to get him to bond with them.

Bilbo was in his tweens, some ten years later, when he first realised that, on top of being an independent and adventurous omega, he was also attracted to his own sex and not the opposite one. Which was only a step higher than being attracted to your own gender in Hobbits’ eyes.

It was thus with a heavy heart that Bilbo told his parents, as they sat him down once more to discuss the continuation or cessation of his tea taking habits, that he would indeed continue to take it, and told them exactly why.

And though his parents had understood and supported him, Bilbo couldn’t ignore the sad look they gave him at the prospect of what would await him in the future. For, though alpha were known to sometimes stay bachelors and only service a young and unbonded omega durings their heats, it was unheard of for an omega to stay unbonded for very long after they presented.

And so, Bilbo and his parents spent the next nearly ten years battling off alphas and their parents, and ignoring the rumors and nasty gossiping that followed them everywhere.

It all nearly came crashing down when both his parents died, three years before his coming of age.

And though his mother had left in her will a clause for Bilbo to be emancipated should they die not too long before his coming of age, it was only luck, and the fact the Thain was part of the more accepting side of the family that made his mother’s last wish come true.

He’d never heard Lobelia Bracegirdle’s parents shout so loudly when they realised they wouldn’t be able to bound her to him against his will. Though Lobelia seemed relieved, as she’d had eyes on his cousin Otho for a while now. She even sent him a smile and a wink when all was over and came over for tea, making a game of stealing his silverware and beginning the tradition of their little friendly spats, much to her parent’s annoyance.

And though Bilbo was lonely in the big Bag End, the next twenty years passed somewhat peacefully. Hamfast, his gardener, and his wife were good friends, and Lobelia and Otho showed themselves supportive of his decision. And he seemed to have gained something akin to a hero status with some of his other cousins, on both side of the family, making for various and frequent visitors in his big smial.

Still, despite all that, Bilbo couldn’t help but feel thwarted and oppressed here in the Shire. He couldn’t stop himself from longing for the days, not so very long ago, when he’d go with his mothers on adventures, his father waiting for them at home, and the other hobbits looking on with heavy disapproval. But he had responsibilities now, and he couldn’t see himself going on his own anyway.

 

On the eve of his fiftieth birthday, Bilbo found himself once more contemplating his life as it was now, smoking his pipe-weed on his front bench, waiting for Lobelia to come for her daily visit.

As a shadow fell over him, it was not, he realised, the expected Lobelia looking down at him, but indeed a wandering wizard, that hadn’t been seen nor heard of in nearly thirty years.

‘Gandalf!’

‘Bilbo my boy! I’m glad to see you have not forgotten me.’

Bilbo snorted and shook his head. How anyone could forget Gandalf, he didn’t know. Especially when he’d been such good friends with his mother and something of a fixed figure during his childhood and tween years.

So Bilbo just smiled up at the wizard and bid him to come in and have tea with him. He’d just made scones, and if he wasn’t too much mistaken, they were the wizard’s favourite.

As he entered his smile, followed by a wizard bent in two, he thought that this would probably bring change in his life, as any visit from Gandalf was wont to do.

He didn’t know just how right he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are now at the end of this challenge. Finally.  
> I would like to apologies for the looooong delay in posting this last chapter, but it really didn't want to get written.   
> Now, for a little explanation:  
> I had never heard of the Alpha/Omega dynamics before starting to read some fics here (don't even know where it comes from to be honest), and even then, I was more than sceptical. But it grew on me... Like most things do at one point or another.  
> So when I saw that I could have a choice in this one, I didn't even have to think about what to do, I wanted to try my hand in this kind of dynamic.  
> Not quite sure if I'm happy with what I wrote so far... I feel like it's been done a thousand times over.  
> It will probably be continued, if only to satisfy my own curiosity of where this is going. ^^
> 
> So, now that we are done, if you don't mind, I'd like for you guys to do something for me.  
> In all the notes of each chapter, I've written about continuing that particular AU (or not), and so, I'm going to let you all choose which one you would like me to continue and in which order.   
> So, if you could make a list in order of preference of which AU you'd like me to write more of, I'd be grateful. :)  
> And just so you know, now that this is done, I'm going to concentrate on my original writing for a bit (I have a finished novel to edit, it's been sitting there waiting for nearly a year... ^^") and then will concentrate on continuing the AUs.  
> Also, what would you prefer: for me to be absent longer, but come back with a finished story (and possibly even beta-ed) and post one chapter every day, or to come back earlier and post the chapters as I write them, but with no guarantees that you'll have a chapter every week?

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fan fiction in some time and it's my first foray in The Hobbit fandom. Hope it isn't too bad.  
> I've had a bit of a writer's bloc, so doing this challenge seems like the perfect thing to put me back on track.  
> I will probably make a series out of this and do several challenge like this one from different fandoms I like (I'm thinking BBC's Sherlock and NBC's Hannibal).  
> Once I'm finished with this challenge I might continue some of the one shots I'll be putting up. It depends on my inspiration and the reception they get.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A family for Yule](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120965) by [Seth_Lecter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seth_Lecter/pseuds/Seth_Lecter)




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